Tuesday Morning
by Dulcineah
Summary: Season Four AU. FrasierLilith. Sometimes a single night can change your entire life. UPDATE 6-29 The end...well, almost.
1. Prologue

Tuesday Morningbrbr  
  
Author: Dulceybr Rating: PG to start, rating will go up in later chaptersbr Pairing: Frasier/Lilithbr Summary: Season Four AU. Sometimes a single night can change your entire life.br Disclaimer: I own nothing, some important TV people own Frasier and Lilith, and Michelle Branch owns the lyrics to Tuesday Morning.br Special thanks to Alice, Kelly, Krista, and Stephie for your words of encouragement. You guys rock!br Reviews are welcomed and adored.  
  
II remember stormy weatherbr The way the sky looks when it's coldbr And you were with me content with walkingbr So unaware of the worldbrbr  
  
Please don't drive me home tonightbr Cause I don't want to be alonebr Please don't drive me home tonightbr Cause I don't want to gobrbr/I  
  
--Michelle Branch, Tuesday Morningbr  
  
I blamed it on the snow. If it hadn't been snowing, none of this would have happened.  
  
I curled up in the armchair and stared across the room at Frasier's sleeping body, sprawled across the bed. He'd kicked off the covers like he always did, and the sheets were a twisted pile on the side of the bed. It had always been a frustrating point for me. I liked my covers tucked in snugly around me. We'd had many sheet wars back when we were married.  
  
Right now, in the stillness of this early Tuesday morning, it didn't feel like we'd been divorced for almost four years. We were here, together. He was Frasier. My first love. My only love.  
  
I winced as I realized the implications of my thoughts. I was married to Brian. Brian was good to me. Brian was faithful. He was my husband, and he deserved my love. I wanted to love him, and I did, in a way, but if I was honest with myself, I'd never completely gotten over Frasier.  
  
I'd never planned for this to happen, but then again, I'd never planned for anything when it came to Frasier. I'd run into him, completely by accident, on my way home from work. It was just starting to snow, and unless I got home in a hurry, it would be a long, difficult journey. Not that anyone was waiting for me at home. Frederick had left last fall for boarding school at St. Matthew's up in New Hampshire, and having the time of his life, from what I could tell from his letters. He'd been home for the weekend, to see his father, but he'd left to go back yesterday, right before Frasier left for the airport. Brian was away on business again, to Japan this time, and wouldn't be back until Thursday. There was no one to know or care that I hadn't come home last night.  
  
If I closed my eyes, I could still see the surprised look in Frasier's cobalt blue eyes as I'd brushed by him, and he put a hand on my arm. "Lilith? What are you doing out in this horrid weather?"  
  
"I might ask you the same thing," I responded, pulling my coat tighter around my body. "Didn't your flight leave today?"  
  
"Cancelled," Frasier shrugged. "The weather was too bad."  
  
"Why didn't you call?" I asked. "You could have stayed another night."  
  
Frasier shook his head slightly. "I didn't want to inconvenience you. Besides." His voice trailed off for a moment. "Besides, it's only for one night."  
  
I knew what he'd been about to say. Brian was less than thrilled with Frasier's presence around the house over the last two days, even though he was unfailingly polite to him. It was understandable, really. Brian was my husband. Frasier was my ex-husband, and the father of my son. We'd shared a lot together, and it was only natural that Brian might feel threatened.  
  
I should have let it go right then. I should have kissed his cheek and told him to call me when he got back to Seattle. I should have gone home where I belonged.  
  
But I didn't. I stood there in the cold for the next twenty minutes talking to him, and when Frasier suggested getting dinner at one of our old haunts, which happened to be right around the corner, I said yes right away.  
  
I knew better, of course, but I didn't care. I knew that Frasier and I were wonderful at dating and sex, but terrible at the aftermath once the sex was over and it was time to face the consequences of our actions. It was a road I'd been down more than once, and would probably always go down when I saw him.  
  
I couldn't help it. I still loved him.  
  
By the time dinner was over, the snow was covering the streets in a thick white blanket. The buses had stopped running, and it was looking extremely doubtful that I'd make it home that night. Frasier offered to let me share his hotel room with him. I knew better, but said yes right away.  
  
We had sex, of course. Neither one of us intended on it happening, but we watched the snow fall from the window, and Frasier kissed me and I kissed him back and everything else fell into place like it always did. We never intended on these things happening. They always happened anyhow.  
  
I fell asleep in his arms and woke up while it was still dark outside. He didn't stir when I crawled out of bed and began pacing about the room. Frasier slept like the dead. He wouldn't stir if World War Three began in the next room.  
  
He would, however, wake up immediately if I began to cry. It was uncanny how he could sense that. I held back my tears as I continued to pace, not wanting to believe what I'd done. I had spent the night with Frasier. I had cheated on Brian. I'd promised to love and cherish him for the rest of my days, and now I'd gone and slept with another man.  
  
It wasn't like this hadn't happened before when Frasier came to see Frederick. But I'd promised myself that it wouldn't happen again, not now that I had Brian. But now I'd cheated on Brian, just as I'd cheated on Frasier when I was married to him. Maybe the problem was me. Maybe I just wasn't cut out to be faithful.  
  
If Frasier woke up now, I would see a terrible struggle in his eyes, love mixed with fear and regret. He would feel horrible about what had happened between us, and I couldn't bear the thought of sitting here and listening to him apologize while I felt like my heart was about to crack in two.  
  
I did what I always did. Frasier continued to snore while I tiptoed around the room, picking up the items of my clothing that had been scattered the night before. The sky was getting lighter outside, and the snow had stopped falling. I'd take the T home, or get a cab, but I couldn't stay here any longer.  
  
Frasier would understand. He understood me like no one else did. And it wasn't the first time I'd left before he woke. He knew I was no good with goodbyes.  
  
"I love you," I whispered to him, watching as he smiled slightly in his sleep and wondering if he'd heard my words in a dream. Finally dressed, I took my purse off the nightstand and left. The door closed with a quiet click behind me.  
  
Outside, the sun was coming up. 


	2. Chapter 1

Brian came home two days later. I met him at the airport, which I didn't usually do, but I had to do something to absolve the guilt I was feeling over what Frasier and I had done. Frasier had called twice, and both times, I'd let the machine pick up, listening as he pleaded with me to call him back, he was worried about me, we needed to talk. I called back when I knew he would be at work, saying that I was fine, and I'd talk to him later. I couldn't bear to talk to him right now. I needed some time to think about this. I needed some time to think about anything but this. I needed not to think at all.  
  
"Lilith!" Brian exclaimed in surprise, giving me a quick, one-armed hug and pecking me on the lips. "I didn't expect to see you here!"  
  
I forced a smile. "I thought I'd surprise you. How was your trip?"  
  
To my immense relief, Brian launched into an account of his journey. I listened as intently as I could, reasoning that I owed him this much, and so much more, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't keep my mind from what happened two days ago. How could I have done this to a dear, sweet man like my Brian?  
  
The days crept by. At night, I'd be unable to sleep, lying beside Brian, wishing he was Frasier and hating myself for it. Hadn't I done enough to him already? I had betrayed him, and hadn't even had the courage to tell him. He deserved to know. I owed him that much.  
  
I couldn't take it anymore. It was twelve forty-four at night, according to my bedside clock, and below freezing outside, but I couldn't bear this. Brian deserved the truth, and if I didn't tell him now, I never would.  
  
I nudged him with my elbow. "Brian!" I whispered hoarsely.  
  
He rolled over. "Whaa?"  
  
I poked him again. "Wake up. There's something I need to tell you."  
  
He lifted his head from the pillow and stared faintly at me. "Lilith, it's the middle of the night."  
  
"I know, but this is important." My mouth felt dry. I needed a glass of water. No, no distractions. Get it over with, Lilith.  
  
"All right," Brian sighed, fumbling with the objects on his nightstand until he found his glasses. "What's wrong, darling?"  
  
I winced at his pet name for me. Chances were it would be the last time I would ever hear it. "Brian, I-" No, I couldn't just blurt it out like that. I had to be gentle, soften his heart, make him believe that it was truly a mistake and would never happen again.  
  
But was that true?  
  
I pushed the nagging doubts from my mind. "I made a mistake, Brian," I confessed. "A horrible, horrible mistake, and I don't know if you'll ever be able to forgive me."  
  
Brian gripped my arm. "My God, Lilith, you look awful. Are you all right?"  
  
"No, I'm not!" I blurted out. "I slept with Frasier and I'm so sorry and you're going to hate me forever!"  
  
Brian turned away, and I couldn't read his reflection. Was he angry? Was he upset? Did he even care?  
  
"I'm so sorry," I pleaded. "I feel terrible about this, but I didn't want to keep it from you."  
  
"Oh, Lilith." He turned to face me, and his eyes were so sad, sadder than anything I'd ever seen. "Lilith, how could you?"  
  
"Brian, it was a mistake," I begged. "It won't happen again, I promise. You can be as mad at me as you want, but please say I haven't ruined everything."  
  
"You slept with Frasier," he repeated. "You waited until I left town, and you ran to your ex-husband."  
  
I winced at the bitterness in his voice, reminding myself that it was my fault that it was there in the first place. "Brian, I never wanted to hurt you."  
  
"If you didn't want to, then you wouldn't have!" he shouted, throwing his pillow across the room. I heard my bottles of perfume fall to the floor. "Why? What the hell could have driven you to do a thing like THAT?"  
  
I flinched slightly at his burst of temper, pulling the covers up to my chest, as if they could protect me. "I don't know!" I shouted, my voice filled with tears. "I don't know why I did it, but I'm sorry!"  
  
He flung the covers off of him and sprang to his feet. He went over to his closet and yanked out his suitcase, opened the dresser and began throwing clothes in. I watched him from the bed, not fully comprehending what was happening. "Brian, what are you doing?"  
  
He looked at me scornfully. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing."  
  
No. No, no, this couldn't be happening. "Brian, wait, let's talk about this, it's freezing outside-"  
  
"I don't care!" he shouted. "I have to get out of here, don't you understand? I can't fucking deal with this!"  
  
"Brian, please, we can work this out," I begged. "We can get marriage counseling. I'll do whatever you say. Don't leave me. Please."  
  
"Lilith, I'm sorry," he said, and his voice sounded more sad than angry. "I have to get out of here."  
  
To my credit, I didn't break down in front of him. I didn't follow him down the stairs when his taxi came, clinging to him and sobbing for him not to leave me. I apologized over and over, but I didn't cry, and before he got into the cab, he touched my cheek and said he was sorry. I watched as his cab disappeared over the hill, and wandered inside in a daze, and when I got back to the bedroom, the covers were still disheveled and the clock read one forty-four and I couldn't believe that a mere hour ago, Brian had been asleep beside me and none of this had happened.  
  
That was when I finally burst into tears.  
  
It was all over. I had driven him away from me, just as I had driven Frasier away, and I was alone through my own doing. Brian had been a good husband, kind and loyal, and he didn't deserve what I had done to him.  
  
And yet in spite of my guilt, in spite of everything that I'd done to Brian, I found myself reaching for the phone, dialing the familiar number, the one person who could make this turn out all right after all.  
  
"Hello?" Hearing Frasier's voice made me cry even harder. "Hello, who is this?"  
  
"Frasier?" I gasped, trying to catch my breath from the sobs that were wracking my body.  
  
"Lilith?" he asked, completely stunned. "Lilith, is that you?"  
  
"Frasier," I sobbed. "Oh, Frasier."  
  
"Oh my God." His voice was full of dread. "Did something happen to Frederick?"  
  
"No," I tried to tell him. I drew a ragged breath and tried to compose myself. "No, Frederick's all right."  
  
"What happened?" he demanded. "Did something happen to you?"  
  
"Yes," I sobbed. "And it's all my fault, and Brian hates me and I don't blame him and I've lost him and I have no one left at all!"  
  
"Lilith, it's all right." His voice sounded so calm, so composed, and I found myself starting to believe him. "Everything's going to be okay. Tell me what happened."  
  
"Brian left me." Saying it made the reality of the situation hit me all over again. Frasier waited patiently while I cried, not saying much because he knew that words were useless in this situation. What I needed was for him to be here, holding me, telling me it was going to be all right.  
  
Surprisingly enough, there was a bottom to my well of tears. I wiped the last of them from my eyes, feeling clearer, but exhausted. "I'm sorry," I whispered.  
  
"No, I'm sorry," Frasier answered. "It was because of what happened between us, wasn't it?"  
  
"I told Brian," I admitted. "I couldn't keep lying to him anymore."  
  
"Lilith, I truly am sorry about that," Frasier apologized. "I should never have let that happen."  
  
"Frasier, don't," I pleaded. "I've just destroyed my marriage. The last thing I need is to hear that I destroyed it because of a mistake."  
  
"You're right," he conceded. "Do you want me to fly out to Boston for awhile? Help you out through this?"  
  
I wanted to say yes. More than anything I wanted to say yes. But it wouldn't do any good. Yes, I would feel better with Frasier here, but what would happen when he left? What I wanted from him was the one thing he was unable to give me.  
  
"Frasier, what are we doing?" I asked. "Where do you see this going?"  
  
"I don't know what you mean, Lilith," he answered, his voice confused.  
  
"I mean what are we doing?" I demanded. "This wasn't the first one-night stand we've had, Frasier. Are we going to spend the rest of our lives doing this? Because I can't keep this up. I can't do this anymore."  
  
"So you don't want me to come?" Honestly, the man could be so clueless. If he'd been here, I would have thrown something at him.  
  
"Not unless something comes out of it!" I shouted. "And I don't mean a week or so of great sex! If you're going to come, I want it to be because you still love me and you want to try again. Nothing less than that."  
  
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. I could still hear his breathing, and knew he hadn't hung up. I waited, my heart pounding, afraid of what he would say. Afraid of what he wouldn't say.  
  
"All right. Let's try again."  
  
I jumped. This I hadn't expected. I had fully believed that he would offer more apologies and excuses, reasons why he couldn't come. Not "let's try again." Not another chance at something I thought had been lost forever.  
  
"Really? You mean it?"  
  
"I mean it," he answered, and there wasn't a trace of doubt in his voice. "I'll come as soon as you want me to."  
  
"How about tomorrow?" I blurted out, still unable to believe what was happening. Frasier was coming, and not to visit Frederick this time. To see me. To give our marriage another chance.  
  
"I'll book the next flight out of Seattle," he promised. "I'll be there tomorrow."  
  
I knew it wouldn't be as simple as this, and that things might not work out after all. I still had Brian to talk to, and that would be far from easy. Frasier and I still had unresolved issues between us. Neither one of us was the same person we were four years ago. There was no guarantee at all that this would work.  
  
But we were going to try. That was more than I ever thought I'd have again.  
  
"I love you," I told him, still afraid to say it out loud. Maybe it was too soon. Was it too soon? What was the proper time to say "I love you" to your ex-husband?  
  
"I love you too," he told me, without hesitating at all. "And I'll see you tomorrow. But for right now, I want you to get some rest. I'll call you from the airport when I get in."  
  
"All right," I gave in, too tired to argue with him. "I'll see you tomorrow." How wonderful it felt to say that. Frasier was coming tomorrow. My love was coming tomorrow.  
  
We said goodnight at least three times, neither one wanting to hang up. When we finally did, I climbed back into bed like I'd promised, but found it difficult to sleep. Brian had left me. Frasier was coming. And I was terrified. 


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!  
  
My flight left from Seattle at seven in the morning, with an hour and a half stopover in Chicago. I hadn't slept since Lilith's phone call, which was fortunate, really, because if I'd had more of my wits about me, I would have analyzed the situation, and my rash promise to come, and have worked myself into a full-blown panic by the time I stepped on the plane.  
  
Not the case now. I could comprehend where I was going, and why, but I couldn't think about what might come about as a result of this. I didn't want to analyze this now, or ever, even after a lot of sleep. All I wanted was to make it out to Boston, take Lilith in my arms, and beg her forgiveness for what I had done.  
  
Even now, almost two weeks later, I couldn't come up with an excuse for my actions. I had always prided myself on setting an example, on taking pains not to do anything remotely as unethical as sleeping with a married woman. She had been vulnerable, yes, and Lilith had never been as attractive to me as when she let her guard down and let me see the real her. But that was no excuse. I had taken advantage of her, and what's worse, I had done to her husband what Dr. Pascal had done to me all those years before. I knew the pain of infidelity. I knew how hurt and angry and devastated it made you feel. And I had inflicted that on another man.  
  
Lilith was the one who was paying for what we had done. Brian and I had never been what you would call friends, but he loved her, and treated her well. He had left her, and it was all my fault.  
  
Had I really told her we would give our marriage another try? Everything was so cluttered in my mind, what I had wanted to tell her and what I had actually told her. There was so much I wanted to tell her, but couldn't. Like the fact that I still wasn't sure if moving to Seattle was such a good idea. Like that after all these years, I still loved her.  
  
It was much, much too early for this, I decided, pulling my windowshade down and attempting to catch a bit of sleep. I would be seeing Lilith in a little over two hours. I had no idea what to expect.  
  
*********************  
  
I slept late the next morning, surprisingly enough, much later than normal. It was close to one thirty in the afternoon when I finally dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. The next three hours were dedicated to cleaning the house, not because it was filthy so much as it took my mind off what had happened the night before, and what would (or wouldn't) happen that night. I had no idea what to expect, or whether he was even coming at all. For all I knew, he'd chosen to stay in Seattle, and hadn't bothered to call me. Except that wasn't Frasier. That wasn't the man I loved.  
  
I was scrubbing the downstairs bathroom when I heard the doorbell ring. Frasier had said he'd call when he got to the airport, although he could have changed his mind and came straight here. Or it could be a Cub Scout trying to sell me popcorn. I pulled my hair back into a sweaty ponytail and went to answer the door, hoping that whoever it was wouldn't care that I was dressed in an old pair of sweatpants and looked like hell.  
  
It was Frasier. "I know I said I'd call, but I didn't want you to have to bother with driving to the airport," he said sheepishly. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."  
  
I shook my head. "I was just doing a little cleaning. Come on in."  
  
He followed me into the hallway and I shut the door behind him. For several moments we stared at each other awkwardly. I had wanted so badly for him to be here, but now that we were face to face, I had no idea what to say or to do. Was I supposed to show him to the guest room, like I always did when he came to visit Frederick? Was I supposed to kiss him and thank him for coming?  
  
From the look on Frasier's face, he didn't know what to do any more than I did. I settled on a compromise, slipping my arms around his waist and hugging him to me. "Thanks for coming," I whispered. "I'm glad you're here."  
  
He hugged me back, and for a few brief, wonderful moments, everything felt good and right. Frasier was here, and everything was going to be okay. But when we pulled away from each other, an awkward silence fell, with both of us staring at the floor, not knowing what to say or do. I opened my mouth to offer to help him put his suitcase away, but where WAS he staying? In the guest room where he usually slept? In my room with me? When I risked a glance at him, he looked just as confused as I did.  
  
"Lilith." He gently took my hand in his. "I think we need to talk about this."  
  
Instinctively I shrank back. "You think this is a mistake. You want to go home."  
  
"Lilith, please, I just want to talk," Frasier pleaded. "This isn't anything to worry about."  
  
I risked a glance at him. His eyes were warm and comforting.  
  
"I just think we should talk about what we're expecting to come out of this," Frasier explained. "And how fast or slow we want it to go."  
  
I nodded slowly. "Okay."  
  
We ended up in the kitchen, with me sitting down at the table while Frasier searched around my cupboards and made two cups of tea. I watched him, and in spite of my apprehension, couldn't help thinking how at ease he seemed, as if making tea for us was something he did every day. Just a nice, domestic little ritual in the Crane household.  
  
Stop it, Lilith, I told myself firmly. Fantasizing won't help anything.  
  
Frasier set down a mug of tea in front of me and sat down across the table. "So," he began awkwardly, tracing a crease in the tablecloth with his finger. "Here we are."  
  
"Here we are," I echoed. "I'm glad you could make it."  
  
Frasier sighed. "Lilith, what are we doing?"  
  
I took a sip of tea and stared into my mug in order to avoid meeting Frasier's eyes. "I don't know," I confessed.  
  
"I don't either," he admitted. "Being here feels right to me, but neither one of us thought this out at all."  
  
"If we'd thought it through, would we be doing this?" I asked. "I know what you're like, Frasier. You think and you think but you never actually *do* anything."  
  
"Neither do you!" he retorted. My eyes widened, and he reached across the table and took my hand in his. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just want to know what to expect out of this."  
  
"I don't know," I said again. "All I know is that I never stopped loving you."  
  
Frasier reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Lilith, you'll never know how much you mean to me," he began. "The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt you. But you've just been through the breakup of your marriage. That's not something you get over right away-we both know that. I don't want to take advantage of you."  
  
"But you're not," I protested. "You were always the one I loved. That's why things never worked with Brian. That's why I haven't been able to move on since our divorce."  
  
"Lilith." He dropped his hand from my face, and I fell silent. "We both know we can't rush into anything yet. If there is something left between us, we need to work out what went wrong last time before we can make a new start. We both know that."  
  
He was right. Frasier was always right about these things. It was rather annoying, really. "Always the psychiatrist, aren't you, Frasier?"  
  
He smiled. "I can't help it."  
  
"All right," I agreed. "Did you want to stay in the guest room for now?"  
  
"I think that would be best," Frasier agreed. "And nothing romantic between us until everything with Brian is resolved. And even after that, we should take it slow."  
  
I nodded again. "Okay. And I don't want to tell Frederick until there's something worth telling him."  
  
"Absolutely," he agreed. "I feel better for having had this conversation."  
  
I wasn't sure if the same applied to me, but I knew we were doing the right thing. "So do I."  
  
I stood up to collect our mugs and take them over to the sink. Frasier touched my shoulder briefly. "I'll go move my suitcase into the guest room, then."  
  
I turned to face him, and kissed his cheek. "Can I do this?"  
  
He smiled and touched my cheek, then went to retrieve his suitcase. I turned back to the dishes and smiled to myself. 


	4. Chapter 3

Author's notes:  
  
Thanks to everyone who's reviewed this, but especially Washu1 for your thoughtful words on my stories, and eccentric, who's reviewed every chapter of this story. Sorry this took so long, and I hope it lives up to expectations!  
  
Dulcey  
  
***************  
  
Frasier offered to make dinner that night, but I insisted on doing it. He had had a long flight, after all, not to mention Frasier's cooking brought back too memories of our marriage, of dinners eaten by candlelight and being able to be together without worrying about ruining our friendship, or reopening old wounds. I hadn't given up hope that we might not have that again someday, but even if we could, we couldn't have it right now. Not yet.  
  
After dinner, another awkward period ensued. Frasier was yawning, and I knew he was tired from his flight. I was tired myself, having gotten next to no sleep the previous night. I still hadn't been able to think about Brian, where he was or what he was doing. What would he think if he knew Frasier was here right now?  
  
I pushed the thought from my mind. I had made my decision weeks ago, when I slept with Frasier. I'd loved him all along, and as hard as I'd tried with Brian, I'd never been in love with him. I'd loved him, but it was a more comfortable, familiar love, like with a favorite cousin. He had never made my stomach fill with butterflies, or my heart race like a silly teenager's.  
  
He wasn't Frasier.  
  
**************************  
  
Lilith and I said our goodnights and retired to our respective rooms. It was still early, around ten thirty, but I was worn out from my flight, and from being in this entirely unexpected situation. Twenty-four hours ago I'd been comfortably settled in my life in Seattle, and now I was back in Boston, attempting a reconciliation with my wife. I'd sworn I'd never go back, and yet here I was. And strangely enough, it didn't feel wrong at all.  
  
My father thought I was insane when I told him where I was going. I couldn't really blame him-it sounded crazy to me too when I thought about it. I was jeopardizing my entire life in order to be with my ex-wife. But what Dad didn't understand was that this was Lilith. This woman knew me better than anyone ever had, and probably ever would. Even though I couldn't justify this to anyone, I knew I was doing the right thing.  
  
That was all I knew. I didn't know how to go about with this, how to rebuild a relationship that had been shattered by infidelity and betrayal. Ironically, we were starting where we had ended all those years ago. How could we make a marriage out of loneliness and a one night stand? Legally, Lilith was still married to Brian. Mustn't forget that little detail.  
  
I threw off my covers and got out of bed. I'd been lying awake obsessing for the last hour, and as tired as I was, I'd never get to sleep if I kept this up. I needed a drink to slow down my thoughts and relax me enough to fall asleep.  
  
As I stepped out into the darkened hallway I heard a muffled sound coming from Lilith's room. She was crying, and it never failed to break my heart. I abandoned my thoughts of alcohol and rapped softly on her door.  
  
There was no response. She continued to cry from within her room, and I raised my hand to knock again when I stopped myself. Lilith was extremely vulnerable right now, and I knew far too well how attractive she was to me in that state. That was the whole reason we were in the position we were in now. If I went in there and saw her crying, I was going to want to hold her. If I held her, I was going to want to kiss her. And if I kissed her, there would be no stopping anything else from happening.  
  
I turned away from her door and walked briskly toward the kitchen. I wanted a drink of alcohol very badly, but forced myself to settle for a glass of milk. I hated hiding here like a coward, but it was for the best, I told myself. It wouldn't do either of us any good to sleep together tonight and regret it in the morning.  
  
And yet against my better judgement, I found myself remembering those nights when I had sat in this same chair and tried not to think about Lilith sobbing two rooms down. I thought about how I'd laid on the couch in my study and listened to her cry, longing to go to her but too proud and angry to let myself. I had thought that would pass, I had thought things would get easier. They hadn't, and I'd often wondered if my callousness on those nights had been responsible for my divorce.  
  
Again I found myself walking down the hall toward her door. I knocked, and slowly opened the door to see Lilith curled up on the bed, her hair disheveled, her shoulders shaking.  
  
I crossed the room and picked her up, cradling her body to me. "It's okay," I whispered, smoothing her hair back and drawing her head to my shoulder. "Everything's going to be all right."  
  
"Oh, Frasier," she choked, and then she was crying. I held her close to me, pressing my forehead to hers and wiping away the tears from her cheeks. "I'm such an awful person. You shouldn't be here. You should save yourself while you can."  
  
"Lilith, what are you talking about?" I demanded. "You're not an awful person and I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"You should," she insisted, drawing back from my shoulder. "I ruin the lives of everyone who loves me. I ruined yours, and now Brian's."  
  
The tears returned in full force. I tried to hug her again, but she pulled away from my touch. I understood. This was something I couldn't help her through. Whatever happened with Brian, she would have to do alone.  
  
When her tears dried, she let me draw her back to me. "I'm sorry," she whispered, burying her face in my neck.  
  
I dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I won't pretend like I can fix this, or that anything I can say will make this any better," I told her. "But you don't ruin the lives of everyone you love. And I don't want to hear you say that about someone I care about so much."  
  
She sniffled and looked at me. There were still teardrops in her eyelashes. "I don't deserve you, Frasier."  
  
"What did I say?" I scolded her, laying her back down in bed and pulling the covers over her. "I'm not leaving until you promise to stop beating yourself up so much."  
  
Lilith gave me a little smile. "Well, in that case."  
  
Ordinarily the sight of that smile would have been enough to make me kiss her, damn the consequences. That was how I always got into trouble with Lilith, what started us down the road to heartbreak and regrets. But things were different now. We were trying to build something here, and I couldn't just throw it away for another one-night stand.  
  
"You need your rest," I told her firmly, tucking the covers around her the way she always liked them. "I'll be here tomorrow."  
  
She looked at me with those beautiful eyes. "Thank you, Frasier," she whispered. She yawned, and I caught myself thinking that she yawned cute. For God's sake, what was I thinking? How could anyone yawn cute?  
  
And I was starting down that road again. I kissed her quickly on the forehead. "Get some sleep now, all right?"  
  
"All right," she agreed meekly. "I love you, Frasier."  
  
I said it because it was the only thing I could say at the moment. "I love you too, Lilith."  
  
I touched her cheek and left the room. When I climbed back into my own bed, I fell asleep almost instantly. 


	5. Chapter 4

A/N:  
  
Wow, thanks for the reviews! I never knew there were many Frasier/Lilith fans out there beyond my odd little group (said with all the affection in the world, of course!), and I'm glad people are enjoying this story. And Washu1, I promise the entire story will eventually be posted. I won't abandon it, I swear. *nods solemnly*  
  
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I went to work the next day. Frasier wasn't sure if it was such a good idea, and to be honest, I wasn't either, but I couldn't bear the thought of being trapped inside the house with my thoughts. Work provided me with a distraction, and a means to do something productive instead of dwelling on my situation. Later I would be able to analyze what had happened, and what I wanted to happen. Right now, what I needed was not to think about it.  
  
The day started off surprisingly well. Frasier had gotten up before me and ran down to the local bakery, where he'd bought a dozen bagels and brought them back for breakfast. Six blueberry bagels for me, six onion ones for him, just like we'd had all those years ago. We passed the cream cheese back and forth and I'd shared some gossip about a colleague we'd both despised. When I left for work, he'd given me a brief kiss goodbye, and if I thought about it, I could still taste his lips on mine.  
  
I pushed the thought from my mind and returned to my work. The grad students had finished the data analysis over the weekend, and I spent my morning poring over the results, noting with satisfaction that they supported the hypotheses I'd made three months ago. It was good to be doing something, I noted to myself. The busier I kept myself, the better.  
  
The phone rang at lunchtime, while I was eating a tuna on rye I'd gotten from the cafeteria. I picked up the receiver, thinking it might be Frasier. Hoping it might be him. Maybe he could meet me after work, and we could go out to dinner. The thought lifted my spirits, and I smiled to myself. "Hello?"  
  
"Lilith?" I froze at the sound of his voice on the other line. "It's Brian."  
  
Why did he feel he had to identify himself? I'd been married to him for over two years. Was still married to him, technically. "Hello, Brian."  
  
"I'm sorry for calling you at work," he apologized. "I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"  
  
"No, no," I assured him. "I was just eating lunch."  
  
"Oh, great." There was an awkward pause. "I'm sorry I haven't called before this. I just couldn't. I hope you understand."  
  
"Of course I do," I said numbly.  
  
"Listen, Lilith-" He broke off and drew a deep breath. I could hear the pain in his voice and felt horrible that I was responsible for it. "I was hoping we could meet sometime today. There's a lot I want to talk about, and I don't want to do it over the phone."  
  
And here it was. The long, awkward conversation over bad Italian food about who got to keep the house, and who got the car, and did we still want to be friends, or would it be easier for us to go our separate ways. It was my fault, I realized. I had brought this on myself.  
  
"Of course, Brian," I hastened to assure him. "Name a time and place and I'll be there."  
  
He suggested a coffeehouse not far from where he worked, and we agreed on a meeting time of five o'clock. When we hung up, I tried to go back to my work, but it quickly became apparent that my concentration was ruined for the day.  
  
I wasn't looking forward to this evening, to seeing the pain written on Brian's face. I'd been able to repress my guilt over the weekend, but that would be impossible once I saw him. But it was the price I had to pay for my actions, I told myself. I'd been unfaithful, and now it was my turn to suffer.  
  
A new, even more troubling thought occurred to me. What if Brian wanted to give our marriage another try? He wouldn't be happy to know that Frasier was in Boston now, or that he had held me for the better part of an hour last night. If I was honest with myself, I didn't want to try again with Brian, but how could I tell him that? Didn't I owe him another chance, after everything I'd done to him?  
  
The afternoon dragged on. I remained hidden in my office, flipping through books without reading a word, and playing solitaire on my computer. Work was completely out of the question in my current state. We would be falling behind schedule if I wasn't careful, and the article needed to be submitted by next month. Of course, I hadn't thought about that when I'd decided to have a one-night stand with my ex-husband.  
  
I left my office at four-thirty, and deliberately took a longer route in getting to the coffeehouse, as if I procrastinated long enough, I wouldn't have to deal with the situation at all. But I was an adult, I'd made an adult decision, and I was going to have to deal with the consequences eventually.  
  
Brian was waiting when I finally arrived, five minutes late. He had most likely been there ever since five exactly. He was always on time. It was one of the things I'd liked about him.  
  
He stood up when he saw me, and offered his hand. I shook it, thinking how odd it was that he and I had been husband and wife just three days ago, were still married, technically, and here we were shaking hands like strangers.  
  
I needed to stop analyzing everything so much.  
  
"Hello, Lilith." His voice was even and controlled. "How have you been?"  
  
"I'm fine, thank you," I answered politely. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine," he echoed. "Listen, Lilith, I want to thank you for coming."  
  
"Oh, Brian," I sighed. "Of course I came. How could I not?"  
  
"I know this is difficult for you," he explained, pulling out a chair for me. I'd broken his heart and he still held my chair. "But I needed to see you in person."  
  
"Brian, I never meant to hurt you," I told him, glad that those words, at least, were true. "You've been nothing but an amazing husband to me, and you didn't deserve what happened."  
  
"Lilith," he sighed, sinking into the chair across from mine. "I won't pretend it didn't hurt when you told me you'd slept with Frasier. It hurt a lot. But to be honest, it's not like I didn't see it coming."  
  
"What?" I couldn't understand what he meant by that. "Brian, I swear, I never meant for things to happen with Frasier like that."  
  
"Oh, I know you didn't," he hastened to explain. "But Lilith, be honest with me. Was your heart ever truly in this marriage?"  
  
I stared down at the table, unable to meet his eyes. He was right, and my heart hadn't been in it, but how could I tell him that? But my silence was telling him what my words could not, and when I risked a look at him, he looked sad, but not crushed.  
  
"I thought so," he said quietly. "You still love him, don't you?"  
  
I hadn't expected him to ask this. "Frasier?" Brian nodded, and I looked down again. "Yes," I whispered. "I never stopped loving him."  
  
"You can see it when you look at him," Brian continued. "I saw it the first time I met him, when we were in Bora Bora. And when you went to go see him before we got married. I knew it all along. I just didn't want to believe it."  
  
"Brian, I'm so sorry," I pleaded. "You're a wonderful man, and I was so lucky to have you. You didn't deserve any of what happened."  
  
This time he was the one to look down. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this weekend," he began. "If it was just the affair, then we could work things out, but it's more than that. You're not in love with me. That's not something that can be worked out."  
  
I gripped his hand tightly. To my relief, he didn't pull away. "Brian, you're a wonderful man, and you're going to make some woman very happy someday,"  
  
"I know," he replied quietly. "I'm just sorry it wasn't you."  
  
I blinked back tears. "I'll miss you."  
  
"And I you." He cleared his throat, as if uncomfortable with what had the potential to turn into a very emotional conversation. "So I'll have my lawyer contact yours?"  
  
I nodded. "All right."  
  
"I'll make it easy," he promised. "I just want you to be happy, Lilith."  
  
"Thank you, Brian," I whispered.  
  
We stood up, and he kissed me on the cheek. "Take care of yourself," he told me. "And good luck with everything."  
  
I watched him leave, not knowing how I should feel. Sad, or guilty, or resigned, or all three. But it was over. Brian and I were over, and it hadn't been as bad as I thought it was going to be.  
  
I wanted Frasier, I thought suddenly. I wanted to have him next to me, holding my hand, making me feel safe. I always felt better when he was with me.  
  
I tightened my jacket around me and headed home.  
  
When I got back, Frasier was nowhere to be found. I went through the house twice, calling his name, and by the end of my second attempt I was on the verge of full blown panic. He had left me. Taken his suitcase, called a cab while I was at work, and hopped on a flight to Seattle. He was probably halfway across the country right now, relieved at having escaped such a horrid mess.  
  
When I looked into the guest room, his suitcase wasn't anywhere. He had left, and he hadn't even bothered to say goodbye.  
  
This was too much. I'd already been through my full range of emotions during my meeting with Brian, and now this. I'd just lost Brian for good, and now Frasier had abandoned me when I needed him most.  
  
"Damn you!" I screamed, grabbing an ornament off the bookshelf and sending it flying across the room. It hit the wall and shattered into pieces. I fell back on the bed and sobbed. How was I going to get through this? How could Frasier have done this to me?  
  
Somewhere in the background, I thought I heard the door slam. I was being ridiculous, I told myself. Frasier had left, and Brian certainly wouldn't be here now. I was upset, and my emotional state was making me hear things. That was all there was to it.  
  
Except now I was hearing footsteps. They were a bit muffled, and whoever it was was probably in the living room, but they were getting closer. Had I remembered to lock the door, I thought in a panic. The footsteps were now in the hall. I fumbled in my purse and extracted my can of mace.  
  
"Lilith?" Frasier stopped when he saw me in the room, crouched on the bed, holding out my can of mace. "What are you doing?"  
  
I lowered my arm. "Frasier?"  
  
"I went to the store to get some things for dinner," he continued, looking baffled. "I thought I'd cook tonight."  
  
"But." I looked around. "Your suitcase. It's not here."  
  
"It's under the bed," he explained, his forehead wrinkled. He was obviously confused, but that didn't matter at the moment. "I put my clothes in the drawers. I don't like living out of a suitcase."  
  
He was right. It had always been a trait of his. Whenever we went anywhere, even if we were only staying a few days, Frasier would unpack everything. How could I have forgotten that?  
  
"I thought you'd left," I said, hating the fact that my voice was quivering. "I thought you'd gone and not said goodbye."  
  
"Oh, Lilith," he sighed, sitting down on the bed next to me and drawing me into his arms.  
  
I pulled away. "Do you have any idea what I went through?" I demanded angrily. "How could you be so thoughtless?"  
  
"I didn't mean to!" Frasier protested. "I'm sorry if I made you think that!"  
  
"You're always sorry," I told him bitterly, grabbing my purse and leaping off the bed. I wasn't really angry with him, but it had been a long day and I was still upset from thinking he'd left me, and afraid of what was ahead of me, and I couldn't seem to stop the angry words from coming out of my mouth. "If you were really sorry, you wouldn't keep doing the same thing over and over."  
  
"Lilith, you're not being fair." He was starting to get upset himself, which enraged me even more. What right did he have to be upset?  
  
"I hardly think you're one to talk about fair, Frasier," I snapped. "Was it fair of you to move across the country? Was it fair for you to tell me you wanted to give us another chance, then pull a stupid stunt like this?"  
  
"Oh, come on," he protested. "I hardly think it's productive to bring up all our old issues."  
  
"You're right," I said shortly. "So let's not. Let's leave everything as it was." I couldn't believe I was saying these things to him. I couldn't seem to stop myself. "Go back to Seattle. I don't need you here."  
  
And with that, I marched out of the guest room and into mine, two doors down. I slammed the door behind me, and flipped the lock. Losing my temper like that, and saying those awful things to Frasier felt good for about ten seconds. But the longer I sat there, the worse everything seemed.  
  
Frasier had just made a huge sacrifice for me. He had left his job, his friends, and his family in Seattle in order to be with me. He was risking everything he had to be here, and I had repaid him by blowing up and saying hurtful things when he had only wanted to do something nice for me.  
  
I opened my door a crack, and when nothing happened, timidly peered out in the hall. Frasier's door was open, and the light was still on. It didn't look like he'd left, at least. It terrified me to think of facing him after what I'd done, but the alternative was to let him leave, and that was unthinkable.  
  
I slowly walked down the hall. When I peered into the room, I saw Frasier sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.  
  
I took a few timid steps into the room. "Frasier?" He lifted his head from his hands and looked at me. It tore through my heart to see the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I would never leave you like that," he said, his voice soft. "I thought you knew that."  
  
"I do," I hastened to assure him. "It's been an emotional day, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry." I took a step toward him, and was relieved not to see him back away. "I don't want you to leave. That's the last thing I want."  
  
"Lilith, I won't lie to you," he began. "What you said hurt a lot. But being together involves being able to work through these things and not being afraid to say what we're feeling."  
  
"You're right," I agreed.  
  
"And I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "Not right now, and I don't think I'll have to later. I think we're going to work things through."  
  
I took another step toward him, and he reached out and took my hand in his. I hugged him, half afraid he would pull away from me like I had from him, but he didn't. Not at all.  
  
"Do you want me to make dinner?" I offered. "If you're not up to it. I don't mind."  
  
"How about we make it together?" Frasier suggested.  
  
"Only if you let me chop the vegetables," I replied, giving him a small grin.  
  
He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and we headed toward the kitchen together.  
  
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Lilith was quiet throughout dinner, which shouldn't have surprised me, since she never talked much. She preferred to listen, and that was one of the things I liked about her. Whenever she did break her silence, it was to offer a tremendously insightful remark that was always right on the money. We knew each other well enough that we didn't need to talk that much. She would rest her head on my shoulder and smile, and I would play with her hair and we would be saying so much to each other without uttering a single word.  
  
Except this was unusual. She seemed so preoccupied, picking through her salad and refusing to meet my eyes. Perhaps she was still upset over what had happened earlier that evening, but she had apologized, and we seemed to have reached an understanding. But now she was retreating into herself again, and something definitely was not okay.  
  
I was just about to ask her what was wrong when she put down her fork and met my eyes for the first time all evening. "Brian called while I was at work today," she announced.  
  
I was a little taken aback, not at what she had said-that was only to be expected-but at how casually she had said it, like she'd seen a good movie today. What had happened between her and Brian was the reason I was here right now. What had happened between Lilith and me was the reason I was here and Brian wasn't. And it was far, far too complicated a situation to start analyzing now.  
  
She was still looking at me, expecting some sort of reaction. I didn't know what to say. "What?"  
  
"He called, and we met for coffee," she continued in that same emotionless voice. "He didn't seem upset at me. Just sad."  
  
I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. She didn't pull away, or give any acknowledgement of my action. "How did things go?"  
  
Lilith shrugged. "All right, I guess. My marriage is over." Her bottom lip quivered, and her eyes lost that far away look. "My marriage is over," she repeated.  
  
Her voice cracked and she turned away from me. "I don't want to cry," she told me. "It won't do any good, and I've cried enough in the last three days."  
  
"You don't have to cry, but I think you need to talk about this," I prompted her gently. "How does this make you feel?"  
  
She looked at me scornfully. "You had to pick the most unoriginal thing to say. That's what every psychiatrist asks their patients. It means you don't know what to say, so you make them answer their own questions so you don't have to. "  
  
"Fair enough," I agreed, "But you still need to answer. You have to be feeling something about this."  
  
Lilith sighed. "Sad, afraid, guilty, what do you want me to say?"  
  
"That's a start," I offered. "What else?"  
  
"How would you feel?" Lilith shot back. "Why does what I'm feeling matter so much? What about what Brian's feeling? What about what you're feeling?"  
  
She'd hit a nerve with that one. I'd been avoiding thinking of Brian, trying not to acknowledge what I'd done to him. I'd have to face myself eventually, but I wasn't ready for that.  
  
"This is hard for both of us," I finally said, opting for a neutral response. "It's a lot to deal with."  
  
Lilith sighed. "Frasier, I appreciate your intentions, but with all due respect, I'd like to skip the conversation part of this and go straight to where you tell me it's going to be all right."  
  
We stood up, and I took both her hands in mine. "Lilith, it's going to be all right," I told her, hoping that I wasn't lying. "We'll be okay as long as we have each other."  
  
"Thank you," she whispered, kissing my cheek. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."  
  
She looked so beautiful then, her eyes so sad and pleading, her brow furrowed as it always was when she was upset. Without knowing what I was doing, I kissed her forehead, and then kissed her lips.  
  
Lilith froze for a moment, then pressed her body into mine. We kissed desperately, holding onto each other as if we'd never see each other again. We stumbled down the hall toward her bedroom, still kissing, still not letting go of each other, and finally fell back on the bed together.  
  
She was in the middle of pulling my shirt over my head when she stopped, placed a hand on my chest, and looked at me with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen. "We can't, can we?"  
  
Even though it was immensely frustrating, to say the least, I knew she was right. Neither one of us was ready for this, and it would only hurt our relationship at this point. "No, we can't."  
  
"Will we ever be able to?"  
  
"I hope so," I whispered, wishing I could promise her more. "More than anything, I hope so." Her eyes were so sad. I drew her head to my shoulder so I wouldn't have to look at them.  
  
"Will you stay here for awhile?" she pleaded. "Just hold me."  
  
I put my arms around her. "Of course I will."  
  
This, at least, was easy. Thank God something was.  
  
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	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. This chapter is longer than the others, in an attempt to make it up to everyone who's been waiting so patiently for it. Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.  
  
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Through some miracle, I was able to go to work the next day and put in a reasonably productive performance. I found it helped to keep as busy as possible, and that if I was tired enough, my affair and Brian's leaving didn't bother me that much. There was no time to think about that when there was data to analyze, and reports to write. Spring break was coming up, and I dreaded the prospect. There would be no work to go to, no research to do, nothing at all to distract me.  
  
There was also the problem of Frederick. He was due home for vacation in two weeks, and I didn't have the slightest idea of how I would explain things to him. I hadn't even told him Brian had left-what was I going to say when he came home to find his stepfather had moved out, and his father had moved back in?  
  
I fretted about the subject for days. It would be so much simpler to arrange for Frederick to spend the week with a friend, but that was hardly fair to him. Or to Frasier, who was longing to see his son again. I did too, of course, but I also wanted not to have to deal with the aftermath of that snowy night, and Frederick's coming home would certainly require some heavy duty dealing.  
  
When I presented the dilemma to Frasier, he didn't seem nearly as perplexed as I was. "Just tell him the truth, Lilith," he urged. "Freddie's young. Children are remarkably adaptable."  
  
I rolled my eyes at him. "You mean you want me to tell our nine year old son that I had an affair with his father? He won't even know what that means!"  
  
Frasier sighed. "You're right. Maybe it would be simpler for me to pack my stuff up and move to a hotel while he's here."  
  
"Don't you dare," I warned him. "You're not leaving me alone with this."  
  
"Well, what do you suggest?" Frasier said in exasperation. "You keep shooting down my ideas, maybe you should come up with one of your own."  
  
I sighed. "All I'm saying is that we're two intelligent adults, and we should be able to find a way to explain the situation to our child without scarring him for life."  
  
"Of course," Frasier agreed. "It's just not as easy as it sounds."  
  
"I don't want to get his hopes up," I told Frasier. "Frederick misses you a lot, and he would love it if you were around all the time, and I couldn't bear to see him crushed if things didn't work out."  
  
Frasier raised an eyebrow. "Just Frederick?"  
  
"I think we should both talk to him," I continued, ignoring Frasier's last comment. I hardly felt like getting into my own feelings right now. Things were complicated enough as it was. "And let him know that no matter what, we both love him very much, and nothing is ever going to change that."  
  
"Fine," Frasier agreed. "But he's still not coming for another week, and there's hardly any point to spoiling right now because of what's coming."  
  
"God, I'm starving," I sighed, changing the subject. If we talked about this any more, I was going to go insane. "You didn't go grocery shopping today, did you?"  
  
He shook his head. "You didn't say I should."  
  
"Oh, for God's sake," I sighed. "What do you DO all day while I'm gone?"  
  
"What does that mean?" he shot back. "I'm really not in the mood for this, Lilith."  
  
"You're right, you're right," I gave in, not wanting to fight with him. It wouldn't be fair, really. I was tired and I was worried, but it wasn't Frasier's fault. Well, part of it was, but another part was mine and I didn't want to take everything out on him. "Why don't we order Chinese?"  
  
"All right," he agreed. "Orange chicken, right?"  
  
I stared at him. "I can't believe you remember that."  
  
"Of course I do," he grinned. "Horrid stuff. I still can't believe anyone likes it."  
  
"Says the man who always orders beef and broccoli," I retorted. "I could never for the life of me understand what you liked about it."  
  
"Good thing we make a good living and can afford to order both," he commented, handing me the phone. "Otherwise we'd really be in a jam, wouldn't we?"  
  
I stuck my tongue out at him and phoned in our order. When the food came, we decided to eat out on the porch, since it had been an unseasonably warm day for March, and probably the last such one for another two months. "That's one thing I haven't missed about Boston," Frasier commented as we set out the boxes of food on the table. "It's nice not having to wear a scarf in May."  
  
"No, but I enjoy not having to carry an umbrella whenever I go out," I retorted. "Don't you miss snow and sunshine?"  
  
"A bit, but not as much as you and Frederick," he answered. I looked at him in surprise. "I know it's been four years, but I still haven't gotten used to not having the two of you there when I come home. And as much as I love Dad, he doesn't keep me very warm at night."  
  
"I'd certainly hope not!" I laughed.  
  
"Fair enough," Frasier agreed. He handed me a box and a pair of chopsticks. "Dig in."  
  
I stared at him. "We don't have any forks?"  
  
"Oh, that's right," he laughed. "You always had to spear your food, didn't you? Either that or drop it in your lap."  
  
"You smug chopstick skilled man," I sighed. "Fine, look down on me."  
  
"Chopstick skilled man?" Frasier snickered. "This from the woman with three doctorates?"  
  
"You think you're so funny," I retorted. "How funny do you think this is?" I stabbed a piece of chicken with my chopstick and threw it at him. It hit him in the chest, and he stared at me with a stunned expression on his face.  
  
"You didn't."  
  
I smiled smugly. "Oh yes I did."  
  
"This is a two hundred dollar tie," he continued. "And it has orange sauce all over it."  
  
"Serves you right," I grinned. "Who wears a two hundred dollar tie to eat Chinese food?"  
  
He scooped up a piece of broccoli with his chopsticks and sent it sailing in my direction. It hit me on the forehead, and fell onto the table. "Ha, got you back!"  
  
"I must say, that's a much better use for the stuff," I laughed. "Far better than eating it."  
  
"Oh, come on," he complained. "When's the last time you actually tried it?"  
  
I wrinkled my forehead. "Right before we were married, I think. When we were at that cottage on the Cape."  
  
"No wonder!" Frasier exclaimed. "That was enough to turn me off Chinese food forever. Here, try this."  
  
He held out a bit of beef on his chopsticks. I shook my head. "No way."  
  
"Come on," he pleaded. "You know you'll like it."  
  
"Why do I think you don't mean Chinese food when you say that?" I asked. "It seems like I've heard those words before."  
  
"Aw, come on!" he insisted. "If you don't like it, you can."  
  
"I can what?" I grinned. "Make you my maid for a year?"  
  
"No!" Frasier whined. "Those outfits make me look fat!"  
  
I shook my head. "You are one disturbed man, Dr. Crane."  
  
"That I am," he agreed. "And what does it say about you that you're here with me?"  
  
"It says that I'm researching for a paper on psychopathology," I retorted. "I think I'll win another award for this one."  
  
"You're mean," Frasier pouted. "You're always making fun of me."  
  
"You're right," I gave in. "I'm sorry. Did you still want me to try that scary looking beef?"  
  
He held it out to me again. I obediently ate it. "Not bad." I reached over and speared another piece with my chopstick. "Not bad at all."  
  
Frasier looked torn between gloating that he had been right, and complaining about the fact that I had snatched the box from him and was now picking out all the bits of beef. "Well, um, that's nice, dear."  
  
I offered my box of orange chicken. "Want some?"  
  
"Oh, all right," he grumbled. "It's either this or starve, I suppose."  
  
"You're cute when you sulk," I offered. "If that's any consolation."  
  
"Really?" he brightened. "You think I'm cute?"  
  
I laughed and offered the box of beef back to him. We finished it off together.  
  
*****************************  
  
Lilith went to work as usual the next morning, and as usual, I was completely and utterly bored within fifteen minutes of her departure. I was used to having an active life in Seattle, working and coffee with Roz and dinner and the theatre with Niles. I had never been good at having too much time on my hands, and now that I was in Boston and had nothing to do, I'd fallen into a pattern of watching hours of bad TV and waiting endlessly for six o'clock to roll around so Lilith would return home.  
  
It had been two weeks since I'd arrived in Boston, and I was sick of melodramatic soap operas and talk shows featuring the lowest forms of human existence. It was ten thirty in the morning, Lilith wouldn't be home for seven and a half hours, and I had to get out of the house or I would go mad.  
  
I decided to take a walk, and spent the next hour strolling around Back Bay, taking in the once-familiar sights and reflecting to myself that it couldn't have been over four years since I'd moved back to Seattle. It felt like I'd never left, and the thought was confusing to me. I loved my life in Seattle, I loved my family, and my job and KACL and the athletic club where Niles and I played squash twice a week. I had a wonderful life there. But right here, right now, walking around in this neighborhood, I felt like I was home.  
  
I forced the thought from my mind. It was a gorgeous day for walking, and as I hiked up a hill, things began to feel even more familiar. I didn't realize I was slowing down until I'd stopped altogether, and there it was in front of me.  
  
It didn't look any different from the outside. The townhouse had been red when I'd bought it right after I'd finished my residency and gotten my first real job at Goldenbrook. I had brought Lilith here after our infamous debate on Psychology This Week, and we'd returned to this house after our honeymoon. Our son had spent the first three years of his life here, and it felt oddly like I could go right in and find Lilith in the upstairs bedroom, singing our infant son to sleep.  
  
Lilith had kept the townhouse when I'd left for Seattle, but not for long. She'd sold it about a year after that, and her current place was about a mile away. But this was where we had started. And where we'd ended.  
  
I turned away abruptly and headed back in the direction I'd come from. On my way back, I passed by the T station and hopped onto the train and headed downtown.  
  
I hadn't taken public transportation since I finished med school, before I'd bought my car. It was a bit unsettling at first, as my thoughts dwelled on the astronomically high bacteria levels of stairway railings and seedy characters who wouldn't think twice about beating you up and taking your money. But it was a short ride, and when I escaped at Downtown Crossing, I had to concede that it hadn't been nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be.  
  
I spent the afternoon browsing through bookstores and hitting some of the sights I hadn't seen since I first moved to the Boston area. Around noon, I bought a sandwich and some fruit from a vendor and walked over to the Public Gardens, where I found a deserted bench and a view of the pond, and shared my sandwich with the geese and swans.  
  
It was past four when I finally got back home-to Lilith's, I corrected myself. I couldn't let myself think of it as "home" quite yet. I'd stopped by the grocery store and picked up a few supplies I'd noticed she needed, and a roast for dinner. If I started on it now, it would be ready right when she got home.  
  
There was someone at the front door, and at first I didn't recognize him and thought that it was simply someone selling subscriptions to the Boston Globe. I quickened my step, and then the man turned around and I saw that it was Brian.  
  
He glanced my direction just then, and our eyes met. I was still too far away to see whether he recognized me or not, but I knew that I should call to him, and invite him in. If I wanted to be able to face myself in the mirror tomorrow, I should apologize to him for what I had done. I had deeply hurt this good, honest man who had loved Lilith and never done me any harm. He was the injured party in all of this. He was the only one who hadn't done anything wrong.  
  
I turned my back to him and swiftly hurried down the street.  
  
I ended up back by the Public Gardens, down by Beacon Street. I wasn't sure where I was going or what I was doing, but I had to get away from Brian. No, if I wanted to be honest, I wanted to get away from myself, and that would prove to be a hell of a lot harder. I needed a drink, I thought to myself, then realized where I had been going. Cheers was right down the street.  
  
The bar was empty when I entered, one of those quiet periods that happened every so often. I was secretly grateful for this, because as much fun as it might be later, I didn't feel up to seeing all my old friends right now, much less explain to them what I was doing here.  
  
But I did want to talk to Sam. And incredibly enough, here he was coming out of the back room, his eyes widening in recognition and shock.  
  
"Frasier?" he exclaimed. "My God, is that really you?"  
  
I forced a grin onto my face. "In the flesh, Sam, old buddy. How have you been?"  
  
He shrugged. "Oh, fine. I had no idea you were here in Boston. Visiting Frederick again?"  
  
"Actually, no," I admitted. "I don't even know where to begin."  
  
"Have a seat and I'll pour you a drink," Sam suggested. "Do you still drink beer?"  
  
I grimaced. "I'd rather have a Scotch."  
  
"Ah, the hard stuff," Sam nodded. "This must be a hell of a story."  
  
"Oh, it is," I assured him. He poured me a glass of alcohol, and I threw it back in one shot. Much better. Sam poured me another, and I began to talk.  
  
***********************************  
  
When I arrived home a little after six, Frasier was nowhere to be seen. This was a little unusual, although not particularly worrisome. I knew he had been getting restless lately, and he often went out for walks while I was gone, although he was usually back by the time I got home. I had just started getting used to that again, and it was a little scary how much I enjoyed having him to come home to. Almost like it had been all those years ago, when we'd first been living together.  
  
I needed to stop thinking like this. Those days were gone forever.  
  
Things didn't really feel like they had when we were first together. They were much more hesitant now, much more cautious, as they should be. There were too many unresolved issues and hurt feelings between us that hadn't been there the first time around. We had a son who had to be protected, no matter what.  
  
But he was here. And even though things were different now, they weren't necessarily better or worse. What really mattered was that Frasier was here. And he was.  
  
Two hours later, Frasier still wasn't home. I'd poked my head into the guest room to make sure his things were still on the bureau, but resisted the impulse to check his closet to see whether his suitcase was gone or not. He was an adult, for God's sake. He didn't have a curfew, and I couldn't take away his TV privileges just because he was late and didn't call.  
  
It still made me anxious, though, and afraid, and when Frasier finally came in at quarter to nine, I immediately accosted him. "Where were you? I was worried sick!"  
  
"I'm sorry, angel," he apologized. "I was at Cheers, and I didn't realize how late it was."  
  
I felt a flash of anger at the mention of Cheers. "You couldn't bother to call? Not once in two hours?"  
  
"I said I was sorry!" he snapped. "What more do you want?"  
  
"A little consideration might be nice," I said curtly. "I don't think that's too much to ask."  
  
"Christ, Lilith!" he swore. "So I was at Cheers and I'm a little late! You'd think I committed a capital crime!"  
  
I sighed deeply. "Frasier, if we're going to argue, can we at least fight about something more substantial?"  
  
He threw his hands in the air. "You're the one who started this!"  
  
"I did not!" I retorted. "You're the one who took off without a word and didn't even bother to leave a note!"  
  
"I just spent a couple of hours at Cheers!" Frasier whined. "How is that a capital offense?"  
  
"Right, a few hours," I snapped. "And what'll it be tomorrow night? A few more hours? The whole evening? Is this going to be like when we were married, and I went for days at a time without seeing you because you could never drag yourself away from that godforsaken bar to spend time with your wife and son?"  
  
Frasier's mouth hung open, and he stared at me. "You never complained back then."  
  
I sighed. "I thought you'd see I was unhappy. I thought you'd ask what was bothering me."  
  
"I sure noticed when you cheated on me with another man," Frasier snapped, then covered his mouth with his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."  
  
"No, you did," I said quietly. "And you're right. No matter what you'd done, that was no excuse for my having an affair."  
  
Frasier sank down onto the couch. "I know I wasn't a perfect husband," he said quietly. "I know I did a lot of things wrong and I know I spent too much time at Cheers and not enough with you. But I thought we'd built something worth saving. I can't believe I was wrong."  
  
"Can I ask you something?" His eyes met mine, and he nodded his head ever so slightly. "When you went out on that ledge and threatened to jump, was that just a ploy to get my attention or did you really mean it?"  
  
"I don't know," he began. "I wouldn't necessarily say I went out there with the notion of jumping. It was more like I was hurting so badly that I had to do something. That particular time, it happened to be climbing out on the ledge."  
  
I blinked back my tears. "I never wanted to hurt you, Frasier. I loved you."  
  
"I know you did," he replied. "But love by itself wasn't enough."  
  
"Can we make this work this time?" I asked, my voice trembling, afraid of his response. Once I'd said it, I wanted more than anything to take it back. It was the underlying question every time our eyes met or our hands brushed against each other. It filled our silences with its invisible weight, and lurked unsaid behind every comment we made to each other. And now it was out there, in Frasier's hands, and I was terrified.  
  
"I don't know," he admitted. My heart sank. "More than anything I want it to, and if it's meant to happen, then it'll happen."  
  
"All right," I whispered. That was all I could hope for at this point in time.  
  
"I won't make you any promises about being here forever," Frasier continued. "But I'm here right now, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be."  
  
I sank down next to him on the sofa and rested my head in his lap. He stroked my hair softly, twisting it around his fingers, like he did all those years ago. It felt good, even if it didn't have the promise of forever. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but knew the timing would be wrong. Our eyes met, and I knew that he knew. We were here right now, and for the moment, that was enough. 


	7. Chapter 6

Author's Notes:  
  
Wow, Frith fanfic seems to have taken over this section! I like it! This part is.not one of my favorites. I'm not all that great at writing for Frederick, as you can see by the fact that I sent him to boarding school. But he had to make an appearance, so here he is, and he'll be here for a chapter or two more. Thanks for reading!  
  
************************  
  
Frederick came home the following weekend, and I went alone to meet him at the train station. Frasier and I had talked extensively about how to handle this, and had come to the conclusion that it would be best if I met our son first, and explained to him that Brian wasn't living with us anymore. I wanted to hold off on telling him about Frasier and me until he had had time to adjust to his stepfather's leaving. He was only nine years old, after all, and above all else, our son had to be protected.  
  
Frederick's train arrived on time, and I soon caught sight of him as a large group of young boys stepped off the train. "Mom!" he called happily, running to me and giving me a big hug. I hugged him back, reflecting to myself how much older he looked, and thankful that he was still young enough to hug his mother.  
  
"Hi, sweetheart," I replied, straightening his tie. "It's so good to see you."  
  
"We had the greatest time at the chess tournament last weekend," my son announced proudly. "I got third place! I got a trophy and everything!"  
  
"That's wonderful, Frederick," I congratulated him. "Your father's going to be so pleased to hear that."  
  
My son's face lit up. "Dad's here?"  
  
And there it was, not even a minute after Frederick had arrived in Boston. The first of many awkward moments to come. "Yes, he is," I answered slowly. "He'll be staying at the house with us this weekend." So far so good. Nothing to give our son any false hopes.  
  
"That's great!" Frederick exclaimed. "I can show him my trophy!"  
  
I smiled. "I'm sure he'd love to see it."  
  
We walked together toward the car in silence for several moments. Then Frederick began to look at me with an odd expression on his face, and I knew he was about to ask the question I'd been dreading.  
  
"Mom, where's Brian?"  
  
I placed a hand on his arm and drew him to a nearby bench, where we sat down. "Frederick, honey, there's something I need to tell you," I began. "Brian isn't here because he and I aren't together anymore. Do you know what that means?"  
  
"Mom, I'm not a baby," my son retorted. "Why aren't you together? What happened?"  
  
God, how was I supposed to answer this? "We had some problems, Frederick," I tried to explain. "We tried to work through them, but it just wasn't working anymore, and we'll both be happier on our own."  
  
Frederick shook his head in disbelief. "But you seemed so happy at Christmas!"  
  
"I know this must come as a shock," I tried to tell him. "But Brian still cares about you very much, and if it's all right with you, he'd still like to be a part of your life."  
  
Frederick looked doubtful. "Yeah, for awhile, before he moves away and forgets about me."  
  
I sighed. "I don't know what to say. Brian said to tell you that he'd like to take you to the Celtics game tomorrow, if that's all right with you."  
  
My son looked at me skeptically. "Do you think I should go?"  
  
"Frederick, what happened between Brian and me is going to stay there. Neither one of us wants this to affect his relationship with you," I promised.  
  
His lower lip trembled. "I'm gonna miss him."  
  
I pulled him to me. "Me too, sweetheart."  
  
"Can we have pizza for dinner tonight?" he continued.  
  
I knew he was still bothered by this, but I also knew that it wouldn't do any good to try to draw him into a long conversation about it in the middle of the crowded train station. "Of course we can," I agreed, ruffling his hair.  
  
"Mom," he complained, rolling his eyes. "You're getting it all messy!"  
  
I smiled. "Come on, Frederick, your father's waiting at home for us."  
  
Frederick lit up again at the mention of his father. He worshipped Frasier, and I was grateful that this visit didn't appear to be ruined. In fact, it was beginning to look like it might be a great week.  
  
We went to dinner at Frederick's favorite pizza parlor, stopping by the house to drop off Frederick's suitcase and pick up Frasier. My son was thrilled to see his father, and seemed in high spirits that evening. He beat Frasier at air hockey and me at skeeball, and when our pizza came, chattered nonstop about his friends at school and all the things he was learning in class. He was clearly enjoying himself there, and it was good to hear it.  
  
I'd been reluctant to send him away to boarding school, worried that he was too young. He had pleaded incessantly, and Frasier and I had had many late night phone conversations trying to decide what was best for our son. We finally agreed to let him go for a semester, and looking at our son now, I knew we had made the right choice.  
  
I was also glad it was working out for selfish reasons. I loved my son more than anything, but his presence complicated things. It would be much more difficult to explain Frasier's presence if Frederick lived at home, so much so that I wondered if the risk would even be worth it.  
  
The evening was a huge success, and when we returned home, we played a game of Monopoly together before putting Frederick to bed. Our son resisted the notion of tucking in, stating that he wasn't a baby anymore, but he allowed his father and me to sit at the foot of his bed while the three of us talked about what we wanted to do during Frederick's visit.  
  
This was how it might have been, I realized as I watched Frasier and Frederick debate whether it would be too cold to have a picnic tomorrow afternoon. This could have been how every night went for us, eating dinner as a family, tucking our children into bed, and knowing that tomorrow would be just like today and we never had to worry about one of us not being there anymore.  
  
It could have always been like this, I thought. And it might yet be like this, but I blocked the thought from my mind. It was too frightening to let myself think it, or believe it. I couldn't get too far ahead of myself.  
  
I quickly excused myself, kissing my son on the forehead and making up an excuse about going downstairs to clean up before bed. On my way out of the room, I rested my hand on Frasier's shoulder out of habit, then remembered our son was in the room and quickly jerked it away.  
  
I couldn't forget like that again, I told myself strictly as I went downstairs. That was the number one rule, Frederick came first and no matter what happened between Frasier and me, we weren't going to falsely raise hopes for a reconciliation and then disappoint him yet again.  
  
I collapsed on the sofa in the den and buried my head in my hands. Why was this so complicated, and why didn't things seem to be getting any easier?  
  
*********************  
  
I found Lilith in the den when I went looking for her ten minutes later. She looked at me mournfully with her big brown eyes, and I sank down onto the couch next to her and draped my arm around her shoulders.  
  
She pulled away slightly. "What if Frederick-"  
  
"Frederick is falling asleep in his room as we speak," I hastened to assure her. "And even if he sees this, it wouldn't be the end of the world. We're not doing anything wrong."  
  
She looked at me doubtfully. "I don't know, Frasier."  
  
I sighed. "Lilith, listen to me. I understand your not wanting to raise Frederick's hopes, and believe me, I couldn't agree more. But don't you think there's such a thing as being too careful?"  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked. "How can we be too careful?"  
  
"I mean," I paused, searching for the words to explain this. "Letting our fears get in the way of making this work. Or being so afraid of getting hurt that we don't say the things we need to say."  
  
"Why are we talking about this now?" she asked softly. "Why now, when our son is asleep upstairs?"  
  
"We need to talk about it," I continued gently. "Because we're not getting anywhere this way, and we're going to have to do something different if we want this to work."  
  
"And what do you suggest?" Lilith asked skeptically.  
  
"Frederick's spending tomorrow evening with Brian, isn't he?" I asked, hoping she didn't notice how uneasy I felt at the subject. "Why don't we do something special then? Just the two of us?"  
  
She laughed quietly. "What do you mean, something special?"  
  
I grinned. "Oh, I don't know. How about I surprise you?"  
  
"Something special as in a date?" she persisted.  
  
"Maybe," I laughed. "Should I tell you what I'll be wearing so we won't clash?"  
  
"Come on," she complained, tugging on my shirtsleeve. "Tell me!"  
  
I shook my head. "Not a chance."  
  
Lilith slid closer to me and placed her hand on my leg. "Are you sure?" she whispered, pouting her lips slightly.  
  
I swallowed hard and looked away. "That's not going to work on me this time, Lilith."  
  
She smiled wickedly. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, Dr. Crane," she continued, tracing my cheek with her finger. "This is your last chance."  
  
I stood up, aware of the fact that if I stayed in that position for a moment longer, I would kiss her or worse. "Don't dress too fancy," I gave in. "But I think you'll like it."  
  
"I suppose that's the best I'll do for tonight," she pouted.  
  
"It is," I agreed. "Goodnight, Lilith."  
  
"Goodnight, Frasier," she whispered, slipping her arms around my neck and giving me a hug.  
  
I hugged her back, and on impulse, briefly buried my face in her dark silky hair. "Goodnight, Lilith."  
  
She pulled back and smiled at me, then leaned in again and kissed me softly on the lips. "I'll see you in the morning."  
  
I watched her climb the stairs and disappear down the hall. I could still smell her perfume and taste her lips on mine. I loved her, and the only thing I couldn't figure out was if I'd fallen in love with her all over again or if I'd simply never stopped in the first place. 


	8. Chapter 7

Author's Notes:  
  
Sorry this took so long to update. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, it's good to know that people will read fic that's not Niles/Daphne. Nothing else to say, so on to the fic!  
  
********************  
  
Brian came for Frederick promptly at six the next evening. Frasier had disappeared to the store forty-five minutes ago, and while he could be back at any moment, something told me that he wouldn't be showing up until after Brian left. Frederick was still getting ready when I called him, so I invited my soon to be ex-husband into the kitchen for a cup of tea.  
  
"This is very generous of you, Lilith," Brian remarked. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"  
  
I nodded resolutely. "Frederick adores you, and I don't want him to lose you from his life just because things didn't work out between us."  
  
Brian nodded and stared down at the table. "I miss him a lot. He's a great kid."  
  
"He is," I whispered. "He doesn't take after me much, I'm afraid."  
  
"Lilith, don't talk like that," Brian admonished me. "I don't know what to say to that, to be honest."  
  
"I'm sorry," I apologized quickly. "I don't know what I was thinking."  
  
"I'd rather not go down that road right now," Brian continued. "I'd just like to have a good time tonight with Frederick."  
  
"Of course," I agreed. "He should be downstairs any minute now."  
  
There was an awkward silence. Brian stirred his tea while I examined my fingernails and vowed to get a manicure in the next week.  
  
"Did you have any problems getting your things last week?" I finally asked when the silence grew too much to bear. He had called me at work and asked when a good time would be for him to come by the house and collect his clothes and other belongings. I told him to drop by the next afternoon, and resolved to tell Frasier so he wouldn't be surprised when Brian simply showed up. I'd forgotten to tell Frasier, but he hadn't mentioned anything about seeing Brian, so I assumed he'd been out when Brian came.  
  
Brian shook his head. "Nope, got everything I need. Most of it was yours to begin with anyhow."  
  
"Good." I nodded. "I'm glad."  
  
"Lilith, is Frasier living here?"  
  
I stared at him in shock, unsure of where that question had come from. But then, of course he'd known. He'd been here to collect his things, he must have seen Frasier's jacket hanging on the coat rack in the hall, or his clothes hanging in the closet in the guest room. Brian was an intelligent man, and he had to have suspected something of the sort.  
  
I nodded slowly, not knowing what else to say. Brian's eyes met mine, then looked away. "I thought so."  
  
I couldn't tell what he was feeling. His face was completely blank, and his voice level and perfectly controlled. "I really don't know where things stand between us," I continued, wondering in the back of my mind what I was going on for, and why I didn't simply shut up. "We've been trying to take things slowly, especially with Frederick here, but I don't know if things are getting any better or if we're simply trying too hard to create something that just isn't there."  
  
Brian held up his hand. "Lilith, please, I don't mean to be rude but I don't want to be your and Frasier's relationship therapist."  
  
I looked away, ashamed. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I'm ready!" Frederick shouted, clattering down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Can we get hot dogs at the game?"  
  
"Frederick, be polite," I scolded him, secretly thankful for the distraction. "Brian's being very nice by taking you, and you shouldn't be eating junk food anyhow. It's bad for you."  
  
"Yes, it is," Brian agreed, but I saw him wink at my son and knew that Frederick would come home that night stuffed with hot dogs and popcorn and cotton candy. "I'll have him home by eleven, Lilith."  
  
"All right," I agreed. "Have fun."  
  
They left, and I hurried upstairs to change my clothes for tonight. It was very difficult, since I had no idea where Frasier would be taking me, or what we'd be doing. I finally settled on a pair of tan khakis with a white blouse. I left my hair down. Frasier always loved it that way, and I had a feeling this evening would be truly special.  
  
***********************  
  
I rang the doorbell and stepped back to wait. Footsteps sounded down the stairs, and moments later the door swung open and Lilith was looking at me with a confused expression on her face. "Frasier, did you forget your keys?"  
  
I shook my head. "No, I just thought I'd ring your doorbell. It seems more like a date that way."  
  
She smiled. God, she looked beautiful tonight. "Is this a date?"  
  
"It certainly is," I assured her. "I came by specially to pick you up."  
  
Lilith laughed. "If you're picking me up, then where's your car?"  
  
I looked down. "I was hoping I could borrow yours."  
  
"Oh, I don't know," she teased. "I've never been out with a man who's needed to borrow my car for the evening."  
  
I batted my eyes at her. "I promise I'll take real good care of it and wash it twice this weekend. I'll wash it whenever you want!"  
  
She laughed and touched my hand. "I suppose that's what Frederick will sound like in six years time."  
  
"Wow," I said softly. "I never thought of it that way before."  
  
"Let's not," she decided. "After all, we have a date to go on."  
  
*******************  
  
Frasier drove for an hour, ignoring my repeated entreaties for him to tell me where we were going. After awhile, the Boston skyline faded behind us, and the houses grew fewer and far between. He finally pulled off the road, which had shrunk to a two lane highway, and stopped the car. When I opened my door, I could hear the roaring of the ocean.  
  
"I know it's a little cold for the beach," Frasier told me apologetically. "But the meteor shower's supposed to be spectacular, and I brought some blankets in the trunk."  
  
He opened the trunk, and lifted out a pile of blankets, which he placed in my arms. "I'll carry the food," he told me. "It's nothing fancy, but I hope you like it."  
  
"Frasier, this was a lovely idea," I told him, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. "I can't believe you went to all this trouble."  
  
We walked gingerly down the little path to the beach, where Frasier spread out a blanket, opened the basket, and handed me a sandwich. "Tuna fish, light on the mayonnaise, if I recall," he told me. "Did I get it right?"  
  
I smiled. "I can't believe you remembered that, after all this time."  
  
"You've also got roast beef and mustard, and smoked turkey on sourdough," he continued. "All with no mayonnaise."  
  
I shook my head. "You're a remarkable man, Dr. Crane."  
  
Frasier shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a man of many talents."  
  
"You are indeed," I agreed, taking a bite of my sandwich.  
  
"The meteor shower should be starting any minute," Frasier continued. "And I think we're far enough out of the city to get a pretty good view."  
  
"It was a lovely idea," I told him, touching his hand. "And this is a wonderful surprise."  
  
He slipped his hand into mine and we watched the sky together. My neck quickly grew stiff, and Frasier must have noticed my expression because he spread out another blanket and told me to lie down, and I'd be more comfortable.  
  
It was a beautiful night, if a little chilly. The stars shone brightly in the sky, and I watched intently for the first meteor. Frasier must have noticed me shivering, because he sat up and retrieved the last blanket, which he draped over me.  
  
"Thank you," I whispered. "Aren't you cold?"  
  
He shrugged. "I'll be all right."  
  
"Oh, come on," I insisted. "We can share."  
  
"We can, can't we?" he replied, lying back down beside me. I settled into a comfortable position with my head on his shoulder, and he stroked my hair gently. "Are you happy?" he whispered.  
  
"Yes," I answered softly. "Yes, I am."  
  
"Look!" Frasier exclaimed, pointing up at the sky. I looked up and saw the first star fall.  
  
"Wow," I said quietly. "It makes you feel so insignificant, doesn't it?"  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, brushing a piece of hair out of my eyes.  
  
"Just knowing that there's so much out in the universe that we'll never know about," I explained. "Our lives seem so small by comparison."  
  
"Maybe," Frasier agreed. "But I love my small little life and there's nowhere I'd rather be right now."  
  
"Me too," I whispered, curling up closer to him. "I can't believe you're really here with me."  
  
"To be honest, neither do I," Frasier confessed. "If I'd given myself time to think about it when you asked me to come, I wouldn't have. I would have come up with a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea and why it was best to leave the past alone. But I didn't want to be looking back forty years from now and regret not giving things one last chance. And I didn't want to miss out on the chance of us being together again because I was afraid to try."  
  
"I'm glad you're here," I told him, tracing his arm with my finger. "More than I can say."  
  
He kissed me then, short and sweet, his lips brushing softly against mine. Ordinarily even a kiss as innocent as that would lead to something more, but tonight we were both content to stay as we were, curled up under the blanket and watching the stars fall from the sky. "Look at that one," Frasier told me, pointing to a particularly bright meteor that disappeared in a brilliant flash of green. "Make a wish."  
  
I didn't have to think for a moment. "All right."  
  
He grinned. "What did you wish for?"  
  
"If I tell you, it won't come true," I protested.  
  
"You don't really believe that, do you?" Frasier complained.  
  
"All right," I gave in. "If you have to know, I wished for this."  
  
He hugged me tightly and dropped a kiss on my forehead. "An excellent choice, I'd say."  
  
"You're not so bad yourself," I teased. "I must say, this is the best date I've ever been on."  
  
Frasier kissed me softly. "I'm glad."  
  
*****************************  
  
We stayed there for another two hours, alternately talking and lying in silence as we watched the stars fall. It was a chilly night, but I felt safe and warm huddled under the blanket with Lilith. We left reluctantly, and the drive back into the city passed in silence.  
  
It was quarter till twelve when we finally arrived home. I pulled into the driveway, and Lilith noticed that Brian's car was still there.  
  
It hit me all at once. "Oh no," I groaned. "We're late."  
  
Brian was waiting in the living room as Lilith and I sheepishly let ourselves in through the front door. "Brian, I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I can't believe we made you go to all this trouble."  
  
Brian stood up. "It's no trouble," he said quickly. "Frederick's asleep in bed, and everything's fine. I just didn't want to leave him here all by himself."  
  
"Thank you," she sighed, touching his hand briefly. "That was very nice of you."  
  
"It was a pleasure," Brian replied politely. "I can show myself out."  
  
Lilith kissed him on the cheek and went upstairs to check on Frederick. I stared at the floor in an embarrassed silence as Brian retrieved his coat from the hall closet.  
  
"Goodbye, Frasier," he told me, pausing for a moment in front of the door.  
  
I stepped forward and caught hold of his coat sleeve. "Brian, do you have a moment? I'd like to talk to you." 


	9. Chapter 8

Author's Notes:  
  
Okay, wow, it's been a long time. Sorry about the delay, but school unfortunately has to come first. Or at least before fanfic. I promise I will finish this story, so don't worry! Thanks to eccentric, JanieSternin, lucifer's lush lover, and AvidTVfan for your reviews, and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.  
  
P.S. Marissa, I can totally relate to what you're saying. Thanks for the fic recommendation, it was fabulous, and I will finish Freshman Year, promise. Thanks for reading!  
  
*************************  
  
I stepped forward and caught hold of his coat sleeve. "Brian, do you have a moment? I'd like to talk to you."  
  
"Of course," he replied politely, sitting down on the sofa. I couldn't help but be amazed at how polite he was to me, even after everything I'd done. If Louis Pascal had wanted to talk to me after he'd slept with Lilith, I wouldn't have said "of course" and waited for him to speak.  
  
I sat down in a nearby chair and tried to think of how to begin. Finally, I decided to be honest. "Brian, I don't know how to tell you this."  
  
He blinked, but didn't say a word. He wasn't making a scene, but he wasn't going to make this easy for me either. Not that he needed to. He didn't owe me anything.  
  
"I remember how I felt when Lilith cheated on me," I finally began. "It felt like she'd ripped out my heart and torn it to pieces. I wanted to kill the man she'd been with, and I didn't understand how someone I didn't even know could have shattered my life like that."  
  
Brian nodded again, no expression readable on his face. I had no idea what he was thinking.  
  
"What I'm trying to say is that what happened was the most devastating experience of my life," I concluded. "And it makes me sick to know that I've put you through the same thing."  
  
"I appreciate your telling me this, Frasier," Brian finally responded. "It can't have been easy to say."  
  
"No, it wasn't," I agreed. "Brian, I'm so sorry I hurt you like that. I know we haven't been the best of friends, but I've always respected you and appreciated how well you took care of Lilith."  
  
"She's an incredible woman," Brian answered simply. "You're a lucky man."  
  
"I am," I agreed. "I just wish the circumstances could have been different."  
  
Brian sighed. "I don't know what to say to that, Frasier. I wish I did."  
  
"You don't have to say anything," I answered. "You're the one person in all of this who didn't screw up in some way. You and Frederick, anyhow."  
  
A wistful expression crossed Brian's face at the mention of Frederick. "He's a great kid," he told me. "You and Lilith have done a fantastic job with him."  
  
"The credit is mostly Lilith's," I insisted. "She's been there with him his entire life."  
  
"Take good care of her, Frasier," Brian told me, standing up to leave. "She loves you so much."  
  
Where had this lump in my throat come from? "I will," I promised.  
  
Brian stuck out his hand. I shook it numbly, overcome again by his generosity. We would never be friends, Brian and I, and he would likely harbor some feelings of resentment toward me for a long time. But he was willing to talk to me man to man, and shake my hand even after I had shattered his life and cost him his marriage.  
  
"I appreciate your talking to me," he said simply. "Goodbye, Frasier."  
  
I nodded. "Goodbye, Brian."  
  
He left and I shut the door behind him. It had gone as well as could have been expected. I didn't feel any better about what I had done to him, and suspected that I might never. But I had recognized my actions, and I had apologized for them. I felt like I could finally face myself again.  
  
*****************************  
  
When I looked in on Frederick, he appeared to be sleeping, however he lifted his head when I tiptoed into the room. "Mom?"  
  
"Hi, sweetheart," I whispered. "Did you have a good time tonight?"  
  
My son nodded. "The game was real neat and Brian let me get four hot dogs."  
  
I shook my head slightly. "I hope you won't be sick tomorrow from that."  
  
"Aw, Mom," he complained. "You always say that."  
  
"Fair enough," I agreed. "I'm glad you and Brian had a good time."  
  
"Can you and Dad and me do something together tomorrow?" Frederick asked.  
  
I smiled. I'd have to call in sick from work, but it would be worth it to have a day like that with my family. No matter what had happened between Frasier and me, or what might happen, the three of us would always be our own little family. "I'm sure your father would enjoy that, Frederick."  
  
"I miss him," my son complained. "How come he has to live so far away?"  
  
Good lord, how was I supposed to answer that? "I know he misses you a lot, sweetheart," I began nervously. "And he's hoping he'll be able to see you more often."  
  
"I wish he would," Frederick remarked wistfully. "Is he ever going to move back here?"  
  
Why was he asking so many difficult questions tonight? "I don't know, Frederick," I admitted. "But no matter what, your father and I will always love you very much. And that's a promise."  
  
"I love you too, Mom," my son replied, throwing his arms around my neck.  
  
I hugged him tightly and dropped a kiss on his forehead. "Get some sleep now. It's way past your bedtime."  
  
"Aw, Mom," he complained, yawning. "I'm not tired."  
  
"You're a growing boy and you need your sleep," I stated firmly. "And soon it'll be tomorrow morning."  
  
"All right," Frederick grumbled. "Night, Mom."  
  
I touched his shoulder and stood up to leave. "Goodnight, Frederick."  
  
When I returned to my room, I found Frasier waiting by the door. "Is Frederick asleep?" he whispered.  
  
"Almost," I replied quietly. "He's had a big night."  
  
"I think we all have," Frasier agreed. "I just wanted to say goodnight to you."  
  
"If you're not too tired yet, would you like to come in for awhile?" I offered. "I don't think I can fall asleep yet."  
  
He grinned and followed me into my bedroom, watching me as I kicked off my shoes and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're actually inviting me in? For coffee, perhaps?"  
  
"Frasier, coffee would be totally impractical at this hour and you know—"I broke off when I saw the smirk on his face. "You think you're so funny."  
  
"I am funny!" he argued. "You wouldn't be laughing if you didn't think that was funny."  
  
I stared at him with my most serious expression. "I'm not laughing."  
  
Frasier stared back. "Yes, you are."  
  
I folded my arms. "No, I'm not."  
  
Frasier stuck out his tongue at me. The absurdity of the situation made me break into giggles. He smiled triumphantly. "Yes, you are."  
  
"You suck," I sighed, smacking his arm. "Have I ever told you that?"  
  
"Not if you ask like that, I don't," he grinned.  
  
I sighed and fell back on the bed. "You win."  
  
Frasier laid down beside me and gently stroked my hair. "I had a wonderful time tonight."  
  
I smiled. "So did I. You sure know how to surprise a girl, Dr. Crane."  
  
Frasier slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I rested my chin on his shoulder and let myself think about how good it felt to have him here with me again. I'd missed having him sleep next to me, and even though I'd had Brian for the last two years, he and I never fit together like Frasier and I did.  
  
My eyelids became heavier and heavier, and before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep.  
  
********************************  
  
When I woke up the next morning, Frasier was gone. I felt a twinge of disappointment, but reminded myself that it was better this way. There would have been more than a few awkward moments if Frederick had seen us asleep in the same bed, no matter how innocent the situation.  
  
I pulled on my bathrobe and wandered downstairs. A delicious aroma was coming from the kitchen, and as I walked in it became obvious that Frasier was cooking breakfast. Frederick was standing at his side, still clad in pajamas, and I stopped in my tracks, not wanting to disturb this scene quite yet.  
  
"Can I flip the pancakes?" our son pleaded. "Please, Dad?"  
  
Frasier raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure, son, maybe next time."  
  
"Come on, Dad, please?" Frederick begged. "I can do it!"  
  
"Oh, all right," Frasier gave in. "Just remember that the trick is to toss with enough momentum to flip, but not too much so that it sticks to the ceiling or worse. Like this."  
  
He tossed the pancake in the air. It flipped fine, but landed on the counter. Frederick began giggling.  
  
"Oops," Frasier muttered, his face turning red. "Don't tell your mother. She'll laugh at me. It'll be our little secret, all right?"  
  
"Too late, Frasier," I grinned. "And you're right, I will laugh at you."  
  
Frasier swept the ruined pancake into the trash can and pretended to pout. "You're so mean to me."  
  
"Can I try now, Dad?" Frederick begged. Frasier poured some more batter into the pan, and Frederick flipped it perfectly. "Wow, cool!"  
  
"It looks like you've been beaten, Dr. Crane," I called to him. "By a nine year old, no less."  
  
"I'm gonna be ten in three months!" Frederick protested.  
  
"Sit down, Lilith," Frasier instructed me. "The boys are making breakfast this morning."  
  
I resisted making a remark about needing to run for the fire extinguisher, and sat down at the kitchen table to watch my ex-husband and my son make breakfast for me. When we sat down together ten minutes later, I had to admit that it all tasted delicious.  
  
"I'm going to be spoiled if you keep this up," I remarked. "I won't want to cook for myself anymore."  
  
"Mom? Dad?" Frederick asked, his mouth full of eggs.  
  
"No talking with your mouth full, Frederick," I reminded him.  
  
"That's right," Frasier agreed between bites of pancakes.  
  
Frederick swallowed. "Can we go to Adventure Island today? Please?"  
  
Frasier shot me a questioning look. "Adventure Island?"  
  
"An amusement park by the Cape," I explained. "It just opened last fall."  
  
"So can we go?" my son persisted.  
  
"I don't know, Frederick," I replied. "A museum might be more educational."  
  
"Aw, Mom," my son complained. "We do educational stuff all the time at school. I wanna do something fun!"  
  
"He has a point," Frasier answered. "It is his spring break, after all."  
  
I sighed. "All right, Adventure Island it is."  
  
"Yay!" Frederick exclaimed, jumping up to high-five his father. "Can we go on all the water rides? And the roller coasters?"  
  
Frasier and I exchanged looks. Neither one of us was too crazy about either, but this was Frederick's vacation, and a day at an amusement park wouldn't be too much to tolerate.  
  
"Maybe not all of them," I replied. "But we'll definitely go on some. Your father will have to go on the roller coasters with you, though."  
  
"What?" Frasier whined. "All of them?"  
  
I smiled sweetly. "Unless you want me to get motion sickness."  
  
"Ew!" Frederick yelled. "Gross!"  
  
I laughed and shook my head. "Finish your breakfast and go get dressed. "We shouldn't leave too late."  
  
That was all the motivation Frederick needed. He wolfed down the rest of his eggs and pancakes and was up the stairs in a flash. 


	10. Chapter 9

Author's Notes:  
  
Okay, wow, sorry for the delay in posting this. Blame finals, practicum, and my boss being an idiot for the delay. That's all, enjoy!  
  
*************************  
  
In my opinion, the biggest adventure about the place would be surviving the day without being crushed by hoards of people. It was only the second weekend that the park would be open, and it was absolutely full of families with young children eager to ride the roller coasters after a long, hard winter. It was odd, I reflected as I walked along with Lilith and Frederick, that from a stranger's point of view we were yet another family, hitting the amusement park during the kid's spring break. And yet it wasn't awkward at all. The three of us were here, as a family, doing what families do together.  
  
"Can we get cotton candy?" Frederick begged, tugging on Lilith's arm. "I haven't had any in forever!"  
  
Lilith laughed. "Frederick, sweetheart, it's ten thirty in the morning. Don't you think it's a little too early for sugar?"  
  
"It's never too early for sugar!" I refuted. "Where's your sense of adventure?"  
  
"All right," Lilith gave in. "But you're going with him on the wild rides."  
  
"Yeah!" cheered Frederick. "Can we go on Demon Drop?"  
  
"That is SO not fair!" I whined. "If I have to suffer, then so do you!"  
  
"Why don't we compromise?" Lilith gave in. "The water rides don't look too terrifying."  
  
"Aw, but I wanna ride the roller coasters!" Frederick complained.  
  
"You can ride them too," Lilith pointed out. "I'm sure your father will go with you if you ask nicely."  
  
Frederick looked at me hopefully. "Please, Dad?"  
  
I couldn't resist that look. He was a master at getting what he wanted from me, and I wondered if all kids knew how to do that, or if he'd inherited that ability from his mother. "Oh, all right," I gave in, wondering what I'd gotten myself into.  
  
"Yay!" my son shouted, hugging first me, then his mother. As uneasy as I was at the thought of risking my life on the aptly-named Demon Drop, I couldn't help but smile to see my son's excitement.  
  
The three of us got in line for the white water rapids ride, which was relatively deserted due to the quickly graying skies overhead. "I don't know about this," Lilith remarked as she cast a glance at the people who were coming off the ride, completely soaked.  
  
"Mom, you promised!" Frederick whined.  
  
"Oh, all right," she gave in as we stepped into the raft and fastened our safety harnesses. "I'm sure it can't be too bad."  
  
The ride started, and for awhile we floated peacefully down the water, getting slightly damp from a little splash, or from passing by a nearby waterfall. I began to relax, and when I looked over at Lilith, I saw her laughing and actually enjoying herself.  
  
"This isn't bad at all!" she exclaimed. "I'm actually having fun!"  
  
Just then the raft surged downwards, and a huge wave of water broke over us. Frederick and I got a little damp, and were able to laugh about it. Lilith, on the other hand, was completely soaked.  
  
Frederick and I burst out laughing at the sight of her. "Mom, you look so funny!" Freddie giggled.  
  
"Laugh all you want," Lilith replied dryly. "We'll see how funny you think it is when you're—"  
  
She was interrupted by another wave of water breaking over her. Freddie and I burst into fresh laughter. By the time we got off the ride, Frederick and I had damp clothes and wet hair. Lilith was completely and thoroughly soaked.  
  
She shook her head. "That's the last time I ever wear a new shirt to an amusement park."  
  
"I'm sure you'd dry off in no time if you took Frederick on Demon Drop," I suggested.  
  
"Yeah!" Freddie shouted. "Demon Drop!"  
  
Lilith held up her hands. "Oh, no. It's your turn to suffer. You take him."  
  
I shook my head stubbornly and sat down on a nearby bench. "No way. You're not getting me on that death trap."  
  
"Ooh, Death Trap!" Frederick exclaimed. "Can we ride that one next?"  
  
I stared at Lilith. "There's a ride named Death Trap?"  
  
"Unfortunately, yes," she sighed. "There are at least a dozen roller coasters in this park, and they all have names that make my hair stand on end."  
  
"No sense postponing the inevitable, then," I sighed, getting to my feet. "Frederick, which ride won't throw out my back or give me whiplash?"  
  
My son thought for a moment. "I heard the Viper isn't too scary."  
  
"The Viper it is, then," I agreed.  
  
"Can we do a scarier one after that?" Frederick begged.  
  
Lilith and I exchanged glances. "Let's see how this one goes," she told him.  
  
After waiting in line for half an hour, the moment finally came for us to climb into the little car on a track that looked far too rickety for my taste. There was only room for two people in a row, and Frederick pleaded to be allowed to ride alone, so Lilith and I climbed into the row behind him and nervously gripped the safety bars strapping us in.  
  
I looked at her. "Are you scared?"  
  
She tried to laugh recklessly. She didn't succeed very well. "Not at all. You?"  
  
"Danger is my middle name!" I announced, wondering how my voice could sound so bold while my stomach felt so scared.  
  
Lilith smacked my shoulder. "No it's not, it's Winslow."  
  
"Winslow?" Frederick snickered from the front seat. "Your middle name is Winslow?"  
  
"At least it's not Gaylord!" I retorted.  
  
"Aw, Dad!" Freddie complained. "That's not fair! You can't give me a middle name like that and then laugh at it!"  
  
Just then the roller coaster started, and I tightly gripped the bars in front of me. We climbed for what felt like forever until we reached the top, and I had a brief, beautiful view of the park and the ocean beyond that before we plummeted down towards earth.  
  
The wind whipped across my face as the track twisted and turned. I was certain I'd left my stomach back before that first drop, which was lucky since I certainly would have thrown up otherwise. In the seat in front of me, Frederick was cheering in delight, and I felt Lilith's hand tightly clutching my right arm.  
  
Three terrifying minutes later, the three of us were safely out of the car and back on solid ground. Frederick, of course, wanted to go on another roller coaster right away, but Lilith and I agreed that we needed to do something tamer first.  
  
We finally decided that it was more than time to eat lunch, so we headed south toward the food booths. Lilith and Frederick went to save a table while I stood in line and forked over twenty dollars for three hamburgers and three orders of fries.  
  
"These prices are unbelievable!" I exclaimed to Lilith when I returned. "It just seems like yesterday you could get an entire meal for three dollars!"  
  
"Yeah, back when dinosaurs roamed the planet," Frederick snorted, taking a bite out of his hamburger.  
  
"Oh come on," I whined. "I'm not *that* old!"  
  
"You won't even try Demon Drop!" Frederick insisted. "You've got to be old if you don't think that's fun!"  
  
"All right, fine," I said flippantly. "We're riding it as soon as we're done eating. Riding it twice, even, if you can handle it."  
  
"Frasier, are you sure about this?" Lilith asked, putting a hand on my arm. "You don't want to hurt yourself."  
  
"Lilith, it's just a roller coaster," I insisted. "Thousands of people ride it every day, and they don't get hurt. How bad can it be?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Says the man who whined about that exact ride for the entire morning."  
  
I swallowed the last bite of my hamburger and stuffed my last two fries into my mouth. "I'm ready whenever you are."  
  
"Yeah!" Frederick cheered, leaping out of his seat and tugging on my arm. "Come on, Dad, we've got to get there before the line's a million miles long!"  
  
I must have been out of my mind, because I let my son drag me halfway across the park to a roller coaster that looked as if it were about to collapse at any moment. When we got there, Lilith quickly said that she felt like sitting this ride out, and promised to take a picture of us when we were at the top of the giant loop. The line was long, but moved fast, and all while we were waiting, Frederick repeatedly insisted that there was no way I could make it through this ride, while I argued that oh yes I could, I had a lot of life left in me yet.  
  
It wasn't until we reached the platform and were strapped into our seats, our legs dangling below, that my senses returned to me. I was about to risk my life on this torture machine, and for what? To impress a nine-year old?  
  
No, it wasn't for that, it was to impress my son, who was sitting beside me, his eyes shining and his face clearly showing that he had the coolest dad in the world.  
  
Never mind the whiplash. This ride was worth it already.  
  
The platform dropped from under our feet, and we were jerked into the air.  
  
************************  
  
I sat on a bench and watched as the roller coaster twisted around the tracks. Someone was screaming loudly every time the coaster dropped, and I quickly realized with amusement that it was Frasier. I was torn between feeling bad for him and looking forward to teasing him at a later opportunity.  
  
The ride ended and I went to meet Frasier and Frederick. My son ran up to me and began talking excitedly about the ride he had just taken. Frasier limped up to us, his face pale.  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick," he croaked, grabbing onto a fencepost for support.  
  
"Frasier, you look terrible!" I exclaimed, grabbing his arm and leading him over to the bench. "Are you all right?"  
  
"My ears hurt," Frederick complained. "Dad screamed too loud."  
  
"I'm fine," Frasier winced. He took a few deep breaths, and some of the color began to return to his face. "And I wasn't screaming."  
  
"Yes you were," Frederick insisted. "You were screaming like Uncle Niles did when he saw that cockroach."  
  
"I was *not*," Frasier insisted. "I was merely...cheering enthusiastically."  
  
"Very enthusiastically," I grinned. "I thought you were going to rupture your throat on that last drop."  
  
"You're both mean and unforgiving," he grumbled. "You're always teasing me."  
  
"But you're so much fun to tease!" I laughed.  
  
"There you go again," Frasier pouted.  
  
"Weren't you the one bragging about how roller coasters didn't scare you at all?" I pointed out.  
  
Frasier looked at me pitifully. "Haven't I suffered enough?"  
  
"Yes, you have," I gave in. "I'll buy you an ice cream cone, how's that?"  
  
"Hey, I want ice cream!" Frederick protested. "How come he gets ice cream just for screaming a lot?"  
  
"We can all have it," Frasier amended. He eased himself onto his feet, wobbled a bit, and straightened himself.  
  
He held his hand out to me, and helped me to my feet. My hand lingered in his for a moment and he squeezed it tightly before dropping with a reluctant glance.  
  
I understood. Not in front of Frederick. Not yet.  
  
We walked together, our son running in front of us, off to get ice cream.  
  
*****************************  
  
We returned home that evening sunburnt (except for Lilith), stuffed with junk food, exhausted but happy. While Adventure Island would never be my favorite place to go, it had been somewhere where Lilith, Frederick and I were able to spend a day together as a family.  
  
It felt good to have a family again.  
  
Of course I had Dad and Niles in Seattle, but it wasn't the same. I loved my father and my brother, but they didn't make me feel like Lilith did when she shot me one of her beautiful smiles, or when Frederick looked at me like I was the greatest dad in the world. I'd missed out on so much of my son's life, all the day to day activities, and I regretted it every day.  
  
Frederick said goodnight early on and retreated to his bedroom, first hugging me and Lilith and telling us that he had a great time today. I watched him climb the stairs to his room, and once he'd disappeared out of sight, I put my arm around Lilith's shoulders.  
  
She smiled at me. "It went well today, didn't it?"  
  
"I think it did," I agreed. "I even had fun."  
  
"Especially on the Demon Drop," she teased. "Your throat's going to be sore from that tomorrow."  
  
"Hey, at least I tried it," I retorted. "I didn't see you risking your life on that metal horror."  
  
"When you have three doctorates, you know better," she replied smugly.  
  
"You always bring that up," I sulked. "Looking down on me and my two degrees."  
  
"Oh, all right, I'll stop," she gave in. "Although you're so much fun to look down on."  
  
"You're evil," I complained. "I may not have three degrees, but I can do this!" And with that, I picked her up and carried her across the room. She was too surprised to struggle, and when I set her down, she remained motionless, her eyes staring into mine.  
  
"I want you to stay with me tonight," she whispered. "I know you can't, but I want you to."  
  
I kissed her lightly, against my better judgment. Fortunately (or unfortunately) that kiss didn't lead to anything more. "Soon," I promised. "When Frederick's back at school."  
  
She caught her breath. "You mean it?"  
  
I nodded. "Remember that inn in Connecticut?"  
  
"The one we went to for New Years the first year we were married?" Of course she remembered. It had been an unforgettable four days, and even now, the memory made me blush.  
  
"That's the one," I answered. "Why don't we take a little vacation there for a couple of days next week?"  
  
She kissed me. "I love you, Dr-Dr Frasier Crane."  
  
I laughed. I couldn't help it. "That's enough. I'm going to bed."  
  
I climbed up the stairs, turning around once to look at her in the doorway to the living room. She blew me a kiss, and I smiled to myself before continuing on my way. 


	11. Chapter 10

Author's notes:  
  
Okay, first of all, the rating for this chapter is probably closer to R than PG-13. And there's another version that's NC-17, but since I don't want my ff.net account closed, I chose to edit a little. But if you want the full version, either review or email me and I'll send it your way. Finally, there's a little tribute to another of my favorite TV shows in this chapter, if anyone wants to take a guess. Enjoy!  
  
Frederick left on Sunday afternoon. Lilith and I took him to the train station together, and barely made it due to the fact that the Sox were playing that day, and traffic was at a standstill. We finally arrived five minutes before Frederick's train was about to depart, which didn't leave a lot of time for saying goodbye.  
  
"I hope you had a good time this week," I told my son, hugging him briefly and rumpling his hair. "And I forgive you for the Demon Drop."  
  
Frederick laughed. "That was way cool, Dad. Even if you did scream a lot."  
  
"Be sure to call when you get back," Lilith instructed him. "And don't forget to wear warm socks while you're up there. I know it looks like spring now, but you can still catch cold and you don't want to do that."  
  
"Aw, Mom," Frederick complained.  
  
"All right," she gave in. "I'll stop embarrassing you. She hugged him quickly. "Goodbye, sweetheart."  
  
"Bye Mom," he replied. "Bye, Dad."  
  
He took his suitcase and stepped onto the train, turning back once to wave at us. We watched his train leave, and I put my arm around Lilith as we walked back to the car.  
  
"It's going to be terribly quiet at home without him," I remarked.  
  
Lilith sighed. "I know I should be used to it by now, but I still hate to see him leave. I'm not used to not having him home with me all the time."  
  
"I know," I sympathized. "But he seems so happy at school. It's difficult, but I think you made the right choice."  
  
"You're right," she admitted. "But it's still hard."  
  
I dropped a kiss on her forehead. "What do you say we get dinner somewhere on our way home?"  
  
Lilith smiled at me. "That sounds wonderful. I still need to pack for tomorrow, though, so we'll have to get back early."  
  
Oh, yes, tomorrow. I was picking Lilith up from work and we were driving to Connecticut from there, where I'd made a reservation for two nights at the Independence Inn. If I was honest with myself, I was still wondering whether this was too soon, and whether we were ready for this, but if I let myself be held back by doubts, we would never get anywhere. Lilith had resolved things with Brian, and the divorce papers would be coming next week. I had been in Boston for over a month. It was time.  
  
The rain started as we reached the outer limits of Boston, and followed us all through Massachussetts down to Connecticut. There was something comforting and cozy about being in the car with Frasier as he drove, his eyes staring intently out to the road, the only sounds being the raindrops drizzling on the roof and the rhythm of the windshield wipers wiping away the rain.  
  
We hadn't said much to each other on this trip. What did one say under these circumstances? Were we ready for this? Were we doing the right thing? The questions raced through my mind, and as I glanced over at Frasier, I had the feeling that he was thinking about more than the road.  
  
The rain continued to fall. Frasier glanced over at me, and caught me looking at him. He gave me one of his wonderful smiles, and covered my left hand with his right. My doubts fell away. We drove in silence for the rest of the way.  
  
We finally arrived at the Independence Inn close to seven o'clock. It was still raining, and neither one of us had thought to bring an umbrella. Frasier offered to bring in our luggage while I went and got our room key, but I insisted on helping him. By the time we made it to the lobby to check in, our suitcases at our feet, we were both more than a little damp. But the hotel was just like I remembered it, and our room was beautifully furnished and I was here with Frasier, and at that particular moment, that was all that mattered.  
  
I put my suitcase down and sank into a chair. "I am so glad we finally made it," I announced  
  
"Me too," Frasier agreed. "So here we are."  
  
I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling suddenly shy. "So..." I trailed off and gazed at him imploringly, hoping my eyes would ask what my voice seemed unable to.  
  
"Are you hungry?" Frasier asked. "We could go get dinner if you wanted, or order room service..."  
  
I shook my head. "I'm not hungry right now."  
  
"Me either," he agreed.  
  
Another silence fell. This time it was my turn to break it.  
  
"Actually, what I'd like to do is get out of these damp clothes." I paused, embarrassed over what I had just said. But why should I be embarrassed? This was Frasier. We had a long history together. We'd driven all the way to Connecticut in the rain, and not so we could watch movies or play Truth or Dare tonight.  
  
Frasier swallowed. "I suppose that might be a good idea, if you want to."  
  
"I think I might be up to it," I agreed, peeling off my sweater and tossing it over the arm of a nearby chair. "What do you think?"  
  
"These wet clothes are a bit uncomfortable," he agreed, removing his jacket and taking a step toward me. "I think we'll feel much better out of them."  
  
Within moments his arms were around my waist and his lips pressing down insistently on mine. My nervousness melted away as I kissed him back with equal intensity, nibbling on his upper lip as his tongue explored my mouth. His hands moved to unbutton my blouse and slide it off my shoulders, and we shed our outer layers of clothing and fell back together upon the bed.  
  
Frasier collapsed next to me after it was over, locking his arms around my waist. I rested my head on the pillow next to his, grateful for his warmth and his closeness. He dropped a kiss onto my forehead and I slid my arm across his chest.  
  
"I love you," he whispered.  
  
It was the first time he'd said it first, and there was no way to express how much it meant to me to hear that. We were together, and we loved each other. There was nothing else I needed.  
  
Lilith and I spent the next two days in Connecticut. The rain didn't let up, and although we halfheartedly lamented not being able to get out and do any sightseeing, we were both more than happy to have an excuse to stay in our room for the majority of our stay, only venturing down to the restaurant occasionally for meals.  
  
In the aftermath of our making love for the first time, I had told Lilith that I loved her. I had said it to her before, but only when she'd said it first, and I hadn't expected that to be the moment when I said it first. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I had been hesitant about the entire trip. I had been afraid that once the initial passion was over, I would be left with the familiar feelings of remorse and regret that had followed our trysts in the past.  
  
But there was none of that this time. There wasn't any sense of panic that perhaps she would want more than I could give her, or guilt that I had led her into believing that there was something left between us. As reserved as Lilith behaved most of the time, beneath all of that was a vulnerability, a yearning to be loved. I had wanted to give her that, but at the same time feared having my heart shattered a second time. It had taken so long and so much of myself to get over her the first time. I couldn't bear to go through all that again.  
  
There wasn't any obvious answer as to why things were different this time. Perhaps it was because we had waited so long before we slept together, or that we had more to our relationship than just the physical part. All I knew for sure was that I loved her, and I wanted to be with her.  
  
There would have to be other conversations, of course. We would have to talk about where we would live. I had gotten rather used to being in Boston again, and while I thought it would be best if we lived there, there was still the question of whether we wanted to stay at Lilith's current place, or find a new one of our own. I would have to find a new job in Boston, which might be difficult, since I had been out of private practice for the better part of five years. And then there were little questions, like when did we want to get married again, and where, and if we moved, how did we want to decorate our new place. And big questions, such as if we wanted to have more children.  
  
These would all have to be endlessly discussed and the pros and cons analyzed. Everything was far from settled.  
  
But no matter what happened, I felt that Lilith and I would be together. And when it came down to it, that was all I really wanted. 


	12. Chapter 11

Author's Notes:

Here's an extra-long chapter, to make up for my lack of updates over these past few months. This is essentially the end of the story, although there will be an epilogue after this. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed for all your wonderful words, and I hope the conclusion lives up to your expectations!

* * *

Frasier and I arrived back in Boston on Sunday, and spent a quiet evening at home. He made dinner for me, and afterwards, we curled up together on the couch and sipped wine as we watched old movies on television. I fell asleep against his chest halfway through Casablanca, and woke up later that night to find myself tucked in bed with Frasier asleep beside me. It was so easy to believe that this wasn't a recent development, and that Frasier hadn't moved to Seattle and shattered my heart. That I hadn't had an affair and broken his.  
  
I reluctantly went to work the next day, feeling guilty about leaving Frasier with nothing to do. He had to be getting bored with not having any work to do, and spending the majority of his days waiting for me to get home from the lab. He was happiest when he was active, and I knew that the months of inactivity were starting to wear on him. Perhaps he could find a job here in Boston, although I was reluctant to bring it up with him. A step like that was a very serious one, and we hadn't discussed anything permanent. I assumed that he was planning on staying, but one never knew with Frasier.  
  
When I arrived at my office, the envelope was waiting on my desk. I knew what it was as soon as I saw the return address. This wasn't surprising, after all, I knew this was coming. But as I tore open the envelope and pulled out the legal forms, a fresh wave of guilt washed over me.  
  
This was it. The divorce papers were already filled out, Brian's smooth signature all over them. Two years ago we had been newly married, hopeful about the future, not knowing that I would cheat on Brian with my ex- husband. Brian had never been anything but a wonderful husband, kind and caring. He didn't deserve what I had done to him.  
  
Neither did Frasier, for that matter. I had been married twice, and both times I had ended up in the arms of another man. I wasn't sure exactly why this was—I disliked confrontations, and it was so much easier to confide in someone else and let them comfort me. But there was a big difference between confiding in someone and ending up in bed with them.  
  
Of course, it had been a mistake to marry Brian. It seemed so clear to me now, but two years ago, I had wanted so badly to believe that this man could make me happy, and I was ready to get over Frasier and move on with my life. It wasn't fair to Brian, and he had no idea what he was getting into.  
  
Now I had Frasier back in my life, but what was to say that this pattern wouldn't repeat itself? And if I made the same mistake again, this time Frasier would never forgive me. I knew how hard it was for him to deal with the past, and learn to trust me again. I knew that he was still afraid that he would get hurt again, and how could I convince him this wouldn't happen when I couldn't even convince myself?  
  
I signed the papers and resealed the envelope. Then I went outside and dropped it in the mailbox before I could change my mind.

* * *

When I got home from work, I found that Frasier had ordered Thai food and set it up in the living room. We spent a very enjoyable evening eating with chopsticks (Frasier was teaching me how to use them, my progress had been slow but steady) while watching TV. Jeopardy was on, and we shouted out the answers at the screen. The winner got to steal an item off the other person's plate. I hardly got to eat any of my Pad Thai, although Frasier's garlic chicken was quite tasty.  
  
"Hmm, very good," Frasier commented, scooping up the last of my noodles after getting the Final Jeopardy question right. "I may have to order this next time."  
  
"Good idea," I grinned. "Maybe then I'd get to have some."  
  
"How about you?" he whined. "I've been craving chicken all day and you ate most of it!"  
  
I smiled innocently. "Can I help it if the Double Jeopardy categories were all science-related?"  
  
"All right," he announced. "Next time you're getting the garlic chicken, I'm getting the Pad Thai, and we'll both end up eating what we wanted."  
  
I set my plate down on the coffee table and rested my head against his shoulder. "Sounds like a plan."  
  
His arm slid around my waist. "I need to ask you something."  
  
"Don't worry," I replied reassuringly. "Your breath doesn't smell too much like garlic."  
  
Frasier pulled away and stared at me in disbelief. "What?"  
  
"I'm just teasing!" I protested. "It's just so much fun to tease you because you get so worried!"  
  
"Very funny," he scolded me.  
  
"I thought so," I replied smugly, ignoring Frasier's look of reproval.  
  
"Well, now that we've got that cleared up, I'm going to need you to take me to the airport on Friday." he said stiffly.  
  
I sat up and looked at him. "The airport?"  
  
"I'm flying to Seattle," he explained. "I have some things I need to do there."  
  
I blinked. "Seattle?" I knew I was sounding like an echo, but I hadn't been expecting this. In the future, of course, he had to go back and tie up loose ends there, and he could still be doing that for all I knew. It just didn't make sense for him to be going now, or going without me.  
  
"My hiatus from KACL will be up soon," Frasier continued to explain. "I need to see the station manager about that, and there are some people there I need to talk to."  
  
Oh, yes, he wanted to see his brother and decide whether he really wanted to stay here in Boston with me. How obvious it all was. He was feeling pressed to make a commitment, so he was panicking and looking for a way out. He had done the same thing when we'd lived together the first time, and now he was running off to Seattle on a moment's notice.  
  
Frasier was still waiting for a reply. If I thought about this right now, I would end up screaming or crying or both. Neither one sounded terribly appealing to me.  
  
"All right," I agreed. "I suppose I can leave work a little early that day."  
  
"Actually, my flight's early in the morning," Frasier corrected me. "Eight in the morning, but I should be at the airport by six thirty."  
  
I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm my nerves. "All right. I'll take you on my way to work."  
  
"You're the best," he smiled, pecking me on the cheek.  
  
I smiled, feeling like my face was about to crack. "Glad to help."  
  
Frasier did the dishes, making a big show out of it, and I tried not to laugh, seeing as doing the dishes after Thai food consisted of tossing the Styrofoam boxes in the garbage and washing the chopsticks in the sink. I pushed my misgivings out of my mind and suggested we finish the evening with a little wine. The night ended with Frasier and me sitting side by side on the piano bench, singing together while Frasier played. I'd forgotten how much I'd loved these musical interludes when we were married. Our voices blended together perfectly, Frasier's eyes stared into mine, and it just didn't seem possible that this wasn't forever this time, and that he would be leaving me again on Friday.  
  
No, it wasn't possible, I decided. If I loved him, I would let him go and trust him to come back to me.  
  
But later that night, as I lay in bed next to a sleeping Frasier, my doubts returned. If he was so sure about coming back, then why hadn't he asked me to go to Seattle with him? Summer vacation was coming up, and I would have two months off of work. Frasier knew that. No, if he hadn't asked me to come, then there was a reason why he didn't want me to.  
  
I pressed myself next to Frasier's body, slipping my arms around him and holding him tightly against me. As long as he was here, I could face anything.  
  
As tired as I was, sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

I kept myself very busy over the next few days. As soon as Lilith departed for work, I waited five minutes for her to come back for anything she forgot then sat down in the kitchen with the phone book and called all my colleagues from my days in Boston, inquiring as to whether they knew of any job openings I would be qualified for. I revised my resume on my laptop, printed it off, and faxed it to everywhere that was hiring. I had them all sent out by Tuesday, and on Wednesday, I received a phone call from an old friend at Boston University. They needed a psychiatrist at the Student Health Center on campus, and while the salary was less than what I was making at KACL, and the hours were longer, the schedule was flexible and I would have time for some private practice on the side. He offered me the job and I accepted right away. I would start at the beginning of the summer session in mid-June. That was over a month away, which would give me plenty of time to get things squared away back in Seattle.  
  
I'd told Lilith that I needed to go back to Seattle in order to get my affairs in order. What she didn't know was that I'd bought a ticket for her as well. We would fly to Seattle, I would take care of things at KACL and arrange to have the rest of my belongings shipped to Boston, and we would fly from there to Hawaii, where we would spend two beautiful, relaxing weeks.  
  
I was also planning on proposing to Lilith while we were in Seattle. If I was lucky, our trip to Hawaii would be our honeymoon. I hadn't said anything about this to her because I wanted it to be a surprise.  
  
Lilith seemed down lately, a bit more reserved than usual. It was often hard to tell with her, but I knew her so well that I could sense when something was off, even if I couldn't give any reasons why. She told me briefly that her divorce papers had come in the mail, and it felt strange that she was now twice divorced. I had wanted to tell her then that I wanted her to come to Seattle with me, that I wanted to marry her and spend the rest of my life with her, but it didn't seem like the right moment. So I put a movie on, and held her as we watched together on the sofa and she seemed happier afterwards.  
  
God, I loved her so much.  
  
This was going to work, I just knew it. In two days, we would be flying to Seattle together, and after that, we would have the rest of our lives to spend with each other. I couldn't wait.

* * *

Something was going on with Frasier. Nothing that I could put my finger on, but he seemed to be hiding something from me. I would come home from work to find him on the phone, only to have him abruptly cut the conversation short the moment he saw me. There was something he wasn't telling me, and I didn't like the feeling I was getting from him. It was bad enough that he was leaving for Seattle in a few days, and this mysterious behavior wasn't doing anything to calm my fears.  
  
Quite the opposite, in fact. When I thought about it, his behavior was remarkably similar to how it had been in the final days of our marriage. There had been the mysterious phone calls, and the emotional distance between us, and yet I hadn't picked up on the meaning of it all until Frasier finally sat me down and told me gently that it wasn't working out, that he was going to move to Seattle and he wanted a divorce.  
  
I didn't understand it. Everything had been going so well between us. We had seemed to have worked out our problems, we were happy together—at least, I thought we were happy. I was happy, but maybe Frasier wasn't. Maybe he was panicking like he always did when pressed to make a commitment. It had taken him so much just to propose to me the first time around. He had been hurt badly when Diane left him, I knew, but that was so long ago, and we had been through so much since then. I thought that might make things easier.  
  
Apparently not. He was leaving, and I honestly didn't know whether he would be coming back or not.  
  
I wanted to ask him that. I wanted to pour out my fears while I laid there at night with my head on his chest, and have him stroke my hair and promise that he would never leave me again. Night after night I tried to tell him, and night after night the words jammed in my throat and refused to budge.  
  
And now it was Thursday night, mere hours before I would have to get up and drive Frasier to the airport to disappear yet again from my life. I couldn't sleep. If this was the last night I was going to have with him, I didn't want to waste it by sleeping. I flopped over onto my side and tried not to stare at Frasier's packed suitcase over at the side of the bed. I'd come home from work to find most of his belongings neatly packed away for his trip. There was nothing unusual about that—Frasier always liked to be packed ahead of time, but it was still a bit unsettling to see bare hangers in his half of the closet, and to know that his drawers were mostly empty. He had even packed the photo of Frederick he kept next to his side of the bed. There was something so terrifyingly final about that, like he already knew that he wouldn't be coming back. But how could I tell him that?  
  
Frasier came in, greeting me with a cheery "Hello, sweetheart."  
  
I forced a smile. "Hello. I see you've been busy today."  
  
"Well, you know, I like to be prepared," he answered, pecking me on the cheek and placing another pair of shoes into his open suitcase. "You haven't seen my copy of All the Pretty Horses, have you?"  
  
God, did that title bring back memories. Frasier had always been one for role playing, and his favorite game always involved him calling me Mommy, my fixing him dinner and giving him a bath, and finishing with my singing him that particular song. Even the mere mention of it was enough to make me blush all these years later.  
  
"I'm afraid not."  
  
"Damn," he swore. "Now what am I supposed to read on the plane?"  
  
No, please Frasier, don't go. It'll break my heart if I lose you again. "I've got The Grapes of Wrath if you want to borrow it."  
  
"You're the best," he sighed, giving me a quick kiss and ruffling my hair. "What would I ever do without you?"  
  
God, I hoped he meant that.  
  
I glanced at my bedside clock. One forty-seven. God, I had to get some sleep. I shifted my feet, and noticed with annoyance that the blankets had come untucked again. I sighed and sat up to adjust them.  
  
Frasier stirred. "Lilith? What are you doing?"  
  
I shook my head. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."  
  
"Come on," he protested, running his hand gently down my back. "I know there's something troubling you and you'll feel better if you tell me what it is."  
  
I bit down on my lip and concentrated on the blankets. A surge of annoyance swept through me. Was he mocking me, or was he honestly that clueless? "Frasier, I'm fine."  
  
"Lilith." He propped himself up on his elbow. "I know you better than that."  
  
"Do you use that approach with your patients, Dr. Crane?" I snapped. I knew I was being unfair, and he would be confused as to why I was upset with him, but I didn't necessarily feel like being fair or making him feel better about leaving. "Well, I suppose it's adequate for drive-through psychology like yours."  
  
"Oh, come on now!" he exclaimed. "You're attacking me for no reason!"  
  
"For God's sake, Frasier!" I exclaimed, leaping out of bed and throwing the blankets down in disgust. "You mean you honestly have no clue?"  
  
"Maybe I have no clue because you won't tell me!" Frasier shouted. "This is exactly what went wrong last time! We couldn't communicate because you never told me anything, and then threw a hissy fit when I didn't magically know!"  
  
Oh, that did it. If he wanted a fight, he was going to get one he'd never forget. "No," I retorted between clenched teeth, "What went wrong last time was you continuously being so cerebral and pompous and always assuming what I was feeling without bothering to ask me!"  
  
"I can't believe we're fighting!" he exclaimed in frustration. "I have a flight in six hours and I don't even know what we're fighting about!"  
  
"Oh, forgive me," I snapped, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "We wouldn't want you to miss your flight, would we? God, Frasier, I never thought you were so insensitive."  
  
"What did you think, that I'd never go back to Seattle?" Frasier yelled. "You don't own me! I don't need your permission to leave!"  
  
Tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked furiously, grateful that Frasier couldn't see them in the semidarkness. "No, you're right," I agreed. "You don't need my permission, but you've got it anyhow. Hell, you've got my blessing too if you want it."  
  
I stormed over to Frasier's suitcase and grabbed it by the handle, dragging it down the hallway. Frasier followed on my heels, continuing to insist that I was being silly and to calm down and get a hold of myself.  
  
I spun around to face him. "Like you said, Frasier, I don't own you and you don't need my permission to do anything. I just thought I'd do you a favor and get you started on your way to Seattle."  
  
I flung open the door and tossed Frasier's suitcase down the front steps. He stood and stared at me with his mouth open, and I took advantage of his silence to march down the hall and get the rest of his clothes from the drawers, and fling them out the door as well.  
  
Frasier sighed deeply. "Come on, Lilith, you're just being childish now."  
  
"Maybe so, but this is still my house, and I want you out," I insisted. "I'm sure you can flag down a ride to the airport."  
  
He stared at me in disbelief. "Lilith, it's two o'clock in the morning."  
  
"I know," I answered. "But it's not too cold out, and I'm sure you won't freeze. Would you like a blanket just in case?"  
  
"I don't believe this!" he huffed. "You've lost your mind, woman!"  
  
I pointed toward the door. "Will you go quietly, or will it be necessary for me to call the police?"  
  
"You're crazy," he insisted. "Absolutely certifiable. You've really lost it."  
  
If he didn't leave within the next few seconds, I was going to break down completely. "Frasier, please," I begged, "Just go."  
  
He looked at me sadly, then stepped outside. I shut the door and locked it behind him. Everything had happened so fast, and thoughts were swirling around my head too quickly for me to keep track of. I couldn't think about this now. Maybe not tomorrow either, but all I knew was that if I thought about this for one second longer, my head was going to explode.  
  
There were sleeping pills in my medicine cabinet. I gulped down three of them, then crawled into the bed in the guest room. I couldn't bear to stay another moment in the room that Frasier and I had shared not half an hour ago. The pills worked quickly, and I soon slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

I woke up the next morning feeling groggy and with an impending sense of doom hanging over me. The clock by the bedside read nine fifteen, and I was already late to work. Just wonderful. Now I'd have to rush around like a madwoman in order to get there by ten, and when I got there, explain to my colleagues why I was late. Either that, or I could call in sick to work and spend the rest of the day curled up on the sofa with Frasier watching bad daytime TV.  
  
Frasier.  
  
The events of the night before came back all at once, threatening to completely overwhelm my mind. Had I really thrown his suitcase down the stairs and tossed the rest of his clothes behind them? Had I actually told him icily that if he didn't get out of my house that second, I would be forced to call the police? And for what?  
  
Because he was supposed to go back to Seattle today and I was upset with him for that. Because I was insecure that he was leaving me again, and rather than be honest with him and share my feelings, I repressed everything until it all came out at once like it did last night.  
  
I fell back onto the bed and buried my face in my pillow. It was too late now to be sorry. Frasier was most likely on his way to Seattle by now, relieved at his narrow escape. It was over, and I had ruined things between us yet again.  
  
Maybe so, another part of my mind remarked, but it doesn't necessarily mean that things have to end on this note. I sat up with the realization. Yes, I had screwed up. Yes, I had said some horrid things, and most likely, Frasier wouldn't forgive me. But I could still try. I could go to Seattle after him, and at the very least apologize for last night. If I did that, I could at least try to move on with my life.  
  
I leapt out of bed and climbed the stairs up to my room, where I tugged on an old pair of jeans and a favorite sweater. I ran a brush through my hair, but left it down, not wanting to waste time with anything I didn't need to do. I grabbed my purse from my nightstand, my keys from the dresser, and, remembering how badly it rained in Seattle, an umbrella from the hall closet. If I left for the airport right now, I could be on a flight within an hour or two, and be in Seattle by this afternoon.  
  
I opened the front door and promptly tripped over the sleeping form leaning against it. I stumbled for a couple of steps, then regained my balance. The person next to my door opened his eyes and began to rub his shoulder. "Owww."  
  
This couldn't be real. I still had to be dreaming. "Frasier?"  
  
He blinked. "That really hurt," he whimpered. "Didn't you see me sitting there?"  
  
Okay, yes, I was dreaming. There was no way on earth Frasier had spent the entire night asleep against my door, not after everything I had said to him. Frasier was on his way to Seattle, and I had to wake up so I could come after him.  
  
Frasier was still staring at me, waiting for a response. "Lilith, are you all right? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"  
  
That did it. I flung myself at him and burst into tears, burying my face in his shoulder and sobbing for dear life. "Oh, Frasier," I choked. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I love you so much and I'm sorry I said all those horrid things and I don't want you to go to Seattle."  
  
"Oh, Lilith," he whispered hoarsely. "Oh Lilith, honey."  
  
"Why are you calling me that?" I sobbed. "You should hate me. I was wrong and I hurt you and you should never forgive me for that."  
  
Frasier brushed my hair back from my face and cradled my body against him. "You did say some very hurtful things," he told me. "And it did upset me a lot. But I've had some time to think, and I realize that I wasn't entirely honest with you. And I can see why you might have gotten so upset with me."  
  
"I thought you were leaving me again," I confessed. "I thought you were having second thoughts about being here and this was your way of trying to let me down gently."  
  
"Didn't I promise I'd never leave you like that?" Frasier asked softly.  
  
I nodded, another tear trickling down my cheek. "You did. I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I was just so scared."  
  
"It's my fault too," Frasier insisted. "I didn't tell you everything because I wanted to surprise you. It didn't occur to me that you might think I was planning on leaving you."  
  
"You mean you weren't going to Seattle?" I asked, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.  
  
Frasier shook his hand. "Oh, I was still going to Seattle. But I wanted you to come with me too. I was going to tell you before we left for the airport."  
  
I had to be hearing things. "You wanted me to come too?"  
  
He nodded. "I bought a ticket for you too. I thought...I thought we could get married there."  
  
"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" I asked. "There's no way you could still be here after what I said to you last night."  
  
"I thought about leaving," he confessed. "But the last time I ran away turned out to be the worst mistake I ever made. I didn't want to make that same mistake twice."  
  
"And I always regretted not asking you to stay," I added softly. "I didn't want to leave things between us like that again."  
  
"So where does this leave us?" Frasier asked. "What do you want to happen?"  
  
"I want to be with you," I said without any hesitation. "I love you and I don't want you to leave."  
  
He kissed me then, his arms tightening around my waist. "I love you so much," he breathed. "I love you and I'm never going to leave you."  
  
Happiness surged through me. I hadn't ruined things after all. Frasier still loved me, and he still wanted to be with me. "I can't believe this is happening."  
  
"I still have to go to Seattle," he continued. "I need to talk to the people at KACL and let them know I won't be coming back. I need to make arrangements to have the rest of my belongings sent to Boston. And I want to see Dad and Niles and tell them that you're going to be part of the family again."  
  
I laughed and shook my head. "I'm sure they'll be thrilled."  
  
"I know they don't always come across in the best light," Frasier assured me. "But they love me and they want me to be happy."  
  
"You're right," I agreed. "I could stand to try a little harder with them too."  
  
"We'll talk to them together," Frasier promised.  
  
I pulled back slightly and looked at him. "We?"  
  
"Well, you're coming with me, aren't you?" he asked. "We've missed our flight, but I'm sure we can get another flight together."  
  
I kissed him, too overcome to speak. Frasier, being the understanding one that he was, hugged me again and helped me to my feet. "Why don't we go inside, get some breakfast, and call the airlines? Maybe we can get on a later flight today."  
  
I smiled. "I think that sounds wonderful."  
  
"Oh, and there's one thing more I wanted to ask you," Frasier continued, taking my hands in his. "I know your front porch isn't the most romantic place to do this, and I don't have a ring for you right now, but will you marry me?"  
  
I blinked back my tears and kissed him. I was afraid I was going to start crying again, but I managed to choke out "Yes, yes I'll marry you."  
  
"I love you so much," he breathed, slipping his arms around my waist. "You've made me the happiest man in the world."  
  
We walked inside together. Frasier was staying. We were going to Seattle together, and we were going to get married. Everything was going to be all right.


End file.
